


Painful Meetings

by Rogercat



Series: Tales of the Warg Rider [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Female Maedhros, Female Maeglin, Grief/Mourning, Halls of Mandos, Healing, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 51,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For many years, the rumours about the so called Warg Rider has been told in whispers...but just who is he actually? And how are he linked to two of Morgoth's most famous prisoners, the Feanorian princess Maedhros and Maeglin, the Lady of the House of the Mole? What really happened during their captivity in Angband during the First Age?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The escape

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning to readers: This is a AU story where some characters has been changed from males into females to fit the plot better. If you do not like to read a story with an OC as one of the main characters, then there is no need to read this story. Otherwise, enjoy reading the story and please leave reviews. No flames or bashing of characters, please.

Year 509 of the First Age. It was twilight in Angband, but impossible to truly know with all the black smoke that covered the sky. In a small ravine, two figures stood together. One of them wore a strange mask of iron which covered his whole face, the other one was a black-haired, black-eyed She-elf who tried her best to not shudder at the touch of the other person as he checked so her black hood hid her face.  
  
“Go back to the Hidden City. Before the Dark Lord changes his mind and chooses to keep you here as a breeding slave.”  
  
Maeglin, the sister-daughter of High King Turgon, did not need to hear anymore, her half-broken mind deeply filled with self-loathing over that she had not been able to keep Gondolin hidden from the Dark Lord.  
  
“Why did I not die before my tongue lossened…? If my uncle learns that I have betrayed them…”  
  
One single tear left one of Maeglin’s eyes, her stomach heavy with guilt over the betrayal towards Gondolin. She had broken like a twig after many weeks of torture, her body still bearing markings of what the Lieutenant of Morgoth had done to her in order have her reveal where Gondolin was hidden. On top of everything, to ensure that she did not warn Turgon of what she had done, Maeglin had been forced to become a concubine to Morgoth’s only Elvish War Leader, named Rûsa. Carefully wiping away the tear from Maeglin’s face with one unsure movement, Rûsa looked around over his shoulders, seeking for any possible movements that would reveal that they were being watched. A low growl from his large Warg mount close by, confirmed his suspicions.  
  
“I think you are strong, who managed to keep quiet about the Hidden City for so long. I know myself how it can be to have the scars after Sauron’s torture marks on your body. Now go!”  
  
Well, that at least explained the large scars on his body that she had felt before. Maeglin did not need any more commands: she turned around and hurried towards another easy-to-forget ravine where she would find a short-cut to the Echoriad where Gondolin were hidden.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
Rûsa quickly mounted his Warg and picked up his spear and battle sword in both hands. With a loud war cry which had stuck terror in the Union of Maedhros during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, he answered the attack. The battle caused a huge commotion, and was very likely to draw Sauron’s attention if it was not finished quickly.  
  
“Can’t I at least spend more than five days without having someone trying to kill me and take over my place as War Leader?!”  
  
It was not uncommon for Orcs to try and kill him, often wanting to get his position as War Leader, one of the highest ranks as you could get in Morgoth’s forces. No one really knew how Rûsa had managed to become the only Elvish War Leader, but many believed that he was favoured by Morgoth for some unknown reason.  
  
“Oi, hands off my Skylight!”  
  
His battle Warg who, funny enough, was named Skylight of all names the owner could have given him after the normally-by-orcs hated Sun and Moon, was not pleased in having an Orc trying to pull off his masked owner from the saddle and easy did bite off the unfortunate Orc’s head.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
Meanwhile, Maeglin was forced to stop running. There was a huge rock in front of her, and did not look easy to climb up on. But one look behind her, revealed that a minor pack of Orcs was coming closer to her. Remembering Rûsa’s warnings that Orcs loved to harm slaves who seemed ready to make a attempt of escaping from Angband, she hurried to climb up. Getting up on the rock in the last moment, she barely escaped having her feet caught by a whip. But soon she had to stop again, or she would have fallen headfirst down the small cliff down in the forest of thorn bushes. Since her parents deaths almost 110 years earlier, Maeglin had came to loathe high heights.  
  
“Oooh, one evil from another!”  
  
Seeing the Orcs coming running towards her, and the wish to not be recaptured, settled it. Maeglin threw herself down the cliff, grateful for that Rûsa had given her a set of travel clothes of thick, black leather that was enough similar to the now ruined clothes she had worn when she first had been caught and brought to Angband. By moving her body into a ball, the thick leather clothes protected Maeglin from the big tags on the thorn bushes. While the landing could have been more refined, she was not harmed from the landing and could easy crawl thought the bushes close to the dry ground.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
Rûsa arrived just in time to hear large shouts and screams of pain mixed with foul words, all belonging to Orcs. Hr smirked behind the iron mask, happy to understand that his involuntary concubine had managed to escape.  
  
“That black-haired elf-slave managed to escape! The Dark Lord is not gonna be pleased about hearing that Fire-head’s new mate got away!  
  
On the other hand, he felt a hint of annoyance at hearing that damned nickname he had been called for as long as he could remember. Dismounting Skylight and telling the Warg to stand guard, Rûsa walked over to see how things were going. He hid a laughter behind his mask at seeing the guard Orcs having a lot of big tags from the thorn bushes in their thick skins and clearly having some trouble in getting them all out. Rûsa revealed his presence by roughly pushing down one of them back in the thorn bushes as he said:  
  
“My, my, you guards are getting lazy, it seems. Unable to prevent one single Elf-slave from escaping from Angband? It looks like high-born Noldor captives are very hard to keep chained down indeed, seeing that the red-haired leader at Himring managed to escape with the help of those giant birds over 500 years ago.”  
  
The escape of Maedhros Fëanoriel was often used as an direct insult about someone’s skills, as Morgoth had been very displeased about said Elf’s escape.

“Not our fault that you can’t keep your own bed-slave under control and allowing her to run away, Fire-head! As her master, you were in change of keeping her locked inside a cell or chained down! Had you just put your seed in that belly of hers so it had gotten swollen with offspring right after taking her as your mate, she would never…!”  
  
The Orc was suddenly muted by Rûsa’s sword, beheading him.  
  
“No offspring of mine is going to be born while the Dark Lord still is in Middle-earth!” hissed Rûsa in a deadly voice, as he walked over to the other Orcs with his black eyes burning like cold coal, the bloody sword ready for another act of killing. Having possible offspring was a, to say it gently, very sore point for Rûsa. Being born as a slave himself, he had never known the faces of his birth parents. It was sadly far too common in Angband that some male Elf slaves was held away from work in the underground mines as breeding slaves along with whichever female Elf slaves the Orcs managed to catch. As far as Rûsa knew, his enslaved Noldor mother had been weak, ill-fitting for being a breeding mother slave, dying soon after his birth and he had been his Avari father’s last known bred offspring before the male Elf in a moment of surprise had thrown himself on the spear of a guard Orc.  
  
“Not a change that I will have offspring, birthed by a concubine or lawful wife, unless the Dark Lord is gone…!”  
  
Dark Orc-blood was now all over his body and his iron mask, but Rûsa did not care about that. What he was more pleased about, was that all the Orcs had now been killed by his hands. A weak laugh left his lips as the battle madness left his mind, before he did spit on one of the corpses. In truth, Rûsa felt a wave of relief over that Maeglin had not been there and witnessed the slaughter. Yes, Rûsa was well aware of the fact that he might not be most sane Elf around thanks to a hard life filled with battles and violence, it was impossible to remain that way when you were a War Leader of Morgoth, but he was actually also a little proud of it.  
  
“Skylight, feel free to eat a early dinner. Feast on the free meat.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
As his Warg happy took the change of getting a free meat meal, Rûsa turned around to see the last light of the vanishing twilight sun so far away as he took off his iron mask from his face. His face, covered in old scars yet still handsome in the way of a ruined Elf who had seen far too much violence and death. Someone whose black eyes were almost dead, and far too old for belonging to a fairly young Elf just over 500 years old. But sadly an Elf who never had been able to feel any sort of happiness for an long time. Knowing how his life had been earlier, Rûsa already held very little doubt that his enforced relationship with Maeglin would soon end in a very painful way, just like that he had lost his birth-parents, foster-parents and several close friends thanks to Morgoth in some way, no doubt with her own death if that ache in his heart told him anything.  
  
“Lómiel…I am sorry for all that is to come, and that you had to become the reason for the Hidden City’s coming fall,”, Rûsa whispered in the dry wind as he tried to spot Maeglin somewhere as a tiny black dot far away in the vanishing twilight, using Maeglin’s mother-name in Quenya that Aredhel had gifted her daughter in secret so long ago.


	2. The end of the War of Wraith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the end of the War of Wraith, Angband has fallen. But some secrets are still out there...

Year 587 of the First Age. The last battle in the War of Wrath was finally over, the Valar had just been seen taking a captured Morgoth away to throw him out in the Timeless Void.  
“…Finally…so many years of fighting is over…”  
Maedhros, the firstborn child and only daughter of Fëanor, fell over on her back down on the ground beside her now only living brother Maglor, in a rare display of total exhaustion. Maglor quickly knelt down to check on her. Even if Maedhros were not injured from the fighting, there was still several other reasons for him to worry. But his worries were not needed, after looking on her smiling face.  
“Sister of mine, I think this is the first time in many long years that I actually have seen you smile.”  
Maedhros pointed towards something on the left.  
“And over there is the reason, sweet-tongued Káno.”

Two young Elves, hardly older than looking like they just had came of age, came rushing towards them. The first Elf carried the bag of first aid, hinting that he was a Healer-in-training, while the other one still had his battle helmet on his dark-haired head.  
“Ada Maglor! Aunt Maedhros! There you are!” called Elros in clear relief that the former foster father and his sister was still alive.  
“We were worried when you two got caught in close combat with some of the Orcs…Aunt, do not tell me that you did overextend yourself again?” asked Elrond with a small frown, when he came closer and saw Maedhros’s pale face. Maedhros raised an eyebrow as only answer, too tired to answer. Maglor shook on his head, happy to see his former foster sons again but did not want an minor argument about Maedhros health break out at the moment.  
“Talk later, help me get Maedhros back to our tent, you two should remember how it is for her in moments like this.”  
“My back brace, which happens to be the very last one that Curvo made for me shortly before his death, feels like it took the major damage. I doubt that I will be able to walk much more…ow!!”  
Maedhros gritted her teeth in pain when one of the twins touched her back by mistake. Her back, forever damaged from the time she had been chained to Thangorodrim by her right hand, was her biggest weakest spot as a warrior in battle.  
“Sorry for that, aunt, Elros did not mean it. Maglor, can we borrow that spear? We don’t have a stretcher and I do not think Maedhros should try to walk yet, given what she said about her back brace. Elros, take her other side.”  
Placing the spear under Maedhros knees, and with her arms around their own shoulders, Elrond and Elros was able to lift Maedhros up in a sitting position so they could carry her back to the camp.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Meanwhile, in another part of the now destroyed Angband, other soldiers were still looking for hidden slaves in the underground tunnels.  
“Here are more Avari Elves, they have gotten stuck under the log here! If it was to kill them, I do not know…”  
Many of the now freed slaves were weakened to the point that few were able to walk without help, several ones already close to death. All of them showed clear signs of having been denied food and water so much that most of them looked like the living dead. Scars from whips, knife-marks, old burns and other injuries covered the unwashed slave bodies. Few doubted that many of the slaves were on the last breath of life, but now they at least would be able to pass on to the Halls of Mandos in peace without having to fear what might happen to their bodies after death.  
“Careful there, we do not know how much they can drink…”  
Even the golden-haired Finarfin, the only one of Finwë’s three sons to still be alive and the current High King of the Noldor in Aman, was helping with what he could do for the freed slaves. With his soft voice and soothing presence, Finarfin was able to calm many frightened slaves from panic and fear. Right now he was helping a very old, weak Elf slave to drink some water before some soldiers would move him over to a stretcher.  
“Easy now, it would not be good if you can’t keep the water down…”  
The old Elf gasped, before trying to whisper something as his trembling hand tried to take hold of Finarfin, who took the hand in one of his own, leather-gloved hands for support. But he was so weak that Finarfin had to hold his ear close to the others mouth to hear the words.  
“…our…last protector… Rûsa…don’t…harm him…for being…a…War Leader…he is…”  
Rûsa? That sounded a lot like a bastardized form of the word russa, which meant “red-haired” in Quenya. Finarfin then remembered something that his oldest son Finrod had mentioned at his rebirth, but was quickly forced to push those thoughts aise as the old Elf did faint from exhaustion after speaking the words he had managed to say. Finarfin covered the thin body in his own cloak to keep the old slave warm, then nodded to two of his own men to bring forth a stretcher.  
“Where is my brother’s grandson? The old Elf mentioned something that he would need to know too.”

Lucky, Gil-galad was not too far away. While he had been surprised by an still half-dead Orc at his feet, the creature had quickly been sent into death by the High King’s spear.  
“Young Ereinion!”  
Looking up at seeing his late grandfather Fingolfin’s younger brother come running towards him, Gil-galad hoped that it was not a surprise attack by Orcs somewhere. But no, Finarfin’s facial expression told him that it was no such danger. Once they was close enough to each others, Finarfin told Gil-galad of what the old Elf had whispered to him.  
“I see…I just overheard an freed Elf maiden mention something similar to the soldier who carried her to the camp. This Rûsa sounds like he might be another slave, maybe one who did managed to get some influence or is a leader for the Elf slaves at least.”  
“Fearing that their leader would be harmed, I can understand that. Disposing of a leader by the enemy is a great way of creating chaos and fear in a group.”  
“Could he perhaps be hidden somewhere away, so the slaves would not try and fight against the Orcs from the inside of Angband?”  
That sounded very logical, given that Morgoth’s forces had been destroyed now in the War of Wrath. There were some strange rumours about one of Morgoth’s most feared War Leaders, the mysterious one known for wearing a iron mask and riding a Warg with light fur. No one had ever seen the rider’s unmasked face, he had always been quick to vanish from the battlefield the moment a battle was over. Well, given the rumours of the violence among the Orcs themselves, perhaps he had never vanished like a coward but simply trying to defend his status as War Leader.  
“We must try and find him, or the freed slaves might start to fear that we have killed Rûsa for being one of Morgoth’s servants…”  
In the same moment, someone of the soldiers screamed:  
“WATCH OUT!!!”  
The warning was heard just as a large shadow fell over the two High Kings. Looking up, they saw that it was a huge Warg, with its iron-masked rider holding a spear ready to throw. Only by a quick duck backwards, where they were able to spread out, did Finarin and Gil-galad manage to avoid getting hit.

For a short moment from where he knelt on the ground with a dagger in hand for self-defense, Finarfin caught sight of something about the rider behind the iron mask. Not the black eyes, deep like as bottomless wells, but something else barely seen under the dirty rag hiding the hair from being grabbed at in battle.  
“No way…”  
But Finarfin had no change of wondering more. Now the Warg and its rider had been discovered by the soldiers as well.  
“The Warg Rider!”  
“He just tried to attack the High Kings!”  
“Get him away from them!”  
Arrows was shot towards the rider, and he was quick to use an very damaged iron shield to block the arrows from hitting his body. Based on the design and matted colours, Gil-galad guessed that the shield was a war trophy from a previous battle. Then, one of the freed slaves, who had seen what was going on, tried to prevent one of the archers from shooting a new arrow at the Warg rider, clinging to the surprised archer’s arm as she screamed:  
“No! Please don’t shoot him! Don’t kill lord Rûsa, please!”  
Rûsa? The slaves leader was the feared Warg Rider, the last War Leader of Morgoth? That changed the High Kings whole planning about him. As Rûsa rode away on his Warg, Finarfin commanded:  
“After him! I want him alive, try and catch him unharmed!”  
Some riders from the cavalry did heed Finarfin’s orders and rode after Rûsa after being given ropes from foot soldiers.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Angband had been destroyed to the very ground, few of the land marks that Rûsa once had known so well remained now, but he still knew his changed birthplace well enough to be able to try and using what was left of the surroundings to shake off the Elvish persecutors.  
“I will not let myself be captured!”  
As Skylight jumped over a rock, Rûsa looked over his shoulder for a moment. Years of fighting them at different points in his life had showed him that the Noldor could be extremely stubborn once they have decided on one thing.  
“If I only can get up to higher ground…”  
On higher ground, there was a change that he would be able to get away. Wargs was able to do things horses could not, so Rûsa used his spear to knock two cavalry Elves out of the saddle before he gave Skylight a command to get higher up on the rocks.  
“He is getting away!”  
Then, just as Skylight jumped between two cliffs and Rûsa felt the hope for freedom grow, a Elvish arrow hit straight into the Warg’s throat. The arrow caused an imbalance in the jump, leading to that both Warg and rider fell down against the rocky ground.

“Agh!”  
By pure luck, Rûsa landed on top of the dead body of Skylight, saving him from breaking anything even if he became breathless from the sudden stop. Seeing the arrow in the corner of his eye, he knew that his loyal steed would never raise again. One of the cavalry Elves had came up closer as Rûsa rose on his own feet.  
“Thought that we would allow you to get away so easy, Warg Rider?”  
Rûsa snarled in anger through the mouth opening in the iron mask and pulled out his spare knife before he lunged at the rider. Only the throwing of a rope around Rûsa’s knife-hand prevented him from getting a killing hit. Before long, both his arms and legs were caught in ropes from different directions so he was unable to move. And with adding two spears above his neck, the riders forced him to lay facedown on the ground. Hissing in fury and growing fear, Rûsa tried to get free as he felt panic starting to take over his mind. Having very bad memories of being forced to the ground in the past for different reasons, it was perhaps no surprise that Rûsa got a panic attack. One of the riders, who knew a little about healing, was able to spot the signs on the panic attack.  
“Remove the spears from his neck, he is panicking! Let him calm down! Wait to bind his arms until that he has tired himself out.”  
The Noldor Elves might be hardened warriors, but they did not wish to cause harm to Rûsa, not when hearing the strange sounds from him which indeed sounded a lot like he was begging in a desperate attempt to prevent any possible injury and he trembled in real fear. Despite the ropes and the locked position in which he was, Rûsa tried to curl up into a ball in a instinctive try to protect himself.

What felt like several hours but in fact only was a few minutes, passed until that the panic attack vanished and Rûsa’s breathing became more even again. Slowly, Rûsa wore himself out in his attempts to get free until he was too exhausted to move anymore, in addition to a few slow movements and his ever watchful eyes filled with distrust.  
“I think it is safe now. Hold him still.”  
One of the soldiers opened a small bottle with a sleep-inducing drug, added some of the liquid carefully on a handkerchief and held it close to the mouth and nose openings in Rûsa’s iron mask. The plan to use that drug was not to make Rûsa unconscious, but rather to make him immobile for several hours ahead and easier to handle while he was still conscious.  
“There, he should be immobile for a while now. Bind his arms so we can bring him back to the camp as High King Finarfin wished. Don’t take off his mask yet, that might trigger another panic attack by mistake if we are not careful.”  
A weak growl left Rûsa’s throat as a sign of his anxiety over to be in the enemy's mercy as they bound his hands and arms, but there was nothing he could do to free himself now.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Back in the Noldor camp, Celebrimbor was looking for where Elrond and Elros had went. He did not really blame them for avoiding Eärendil as much as they could, their old feelings of having been abandoned by their parents over a magical jewel that rightfully once had been Maedhros and Maglor’s heirloom from Fëanor, would not vanish in a heartbeat at meeting their birthfather again.  
“They were not with Gil-galad, nor in the healing tents with the wounded soldiers and freed slaves…only one place to actually check, then.”  
Indeed the Peredhil twins were in the shared tent of Maedhros and Maglor in the outer part of the camp. As Celebrimbor knocked on a tent pole before entering, he saw that Maedhros had taken off all clothes from her upper body and laid facedown on her bed, making it easier for Elrond to give her a back massage with some numbing oil to lessen the pain in her back.  
“How are you feeling, aunt?”  
“Sweet of you to ask, nephew, but it is not one of my better days. Back pains, my right shoulder aches very much and I have phantom pains in my right arm again, alongside that strange pain in my abdomen refuses to go away…owww. Not there, Elrond…”  
Maedhros gasped in pain when Elrond touched a sore muscle in her upper back. Maglor pulled Celebrimbor closer to the pile of clothes beside the bed, where Maedhros back brace laid on top.  
“I am a bit worried over its condition. Neither my sister or myself do not think the brace is going to hold much longer. It is her last one, do you think that you can make a new one, Tyelpë?”  
Maglor used Celebrimbor’s old nickname from childhood, the shortened form of his father-name Tyelpërinquar, something which he had not done since hearing about his nephew disowning Curufin for what the Oath was doing to him.  
“I can try, but with aunt’s health I am not too sure…”  
Celebrimbor went quiet. It was an unspoken subject between all five Elves present in the tent, but yet something they all knew: That Maedhros' health was secretly failing, and in alarming fast speed. It had been Elrond who had first spotted it, back as a child in Amon Ereb under Maglor’s care, after that Maedhros had suffered thought several unexpected nervous breakdowns following the years after the Third Kinslaying. Now under the War of Wrath, it had sometimes been very difficult to hide the fact from others that Maedhros health became worse during battles. More than once in the middle of a battle, Maedhros had suddenly suffered a sudden pain in the abdomen and became unable to defend herself for the few minutes under which the pain was present in her body.  
“Elros, please be a dear and see if you can get some hot tea for me and Maglor instead of just standing in the corner. I do not feel like I should eat something yet in a few hours, I have no wish of getting nausea thanks to my stomach pains,” Maedhros requested with an minor hand wave from the bed. Elros obeyed, given that Elrond still was busy with giving Maedhros the needed back massage.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

As Elros was about to take a short-cut to the food tents, some riders came into the middle of the camp. One of the riders held another one in front of him in the saddle.  
“High King Finarfin! Your orders about catching the Warg Rider are complete…ai! Watch out, his immobility has stopped!”  
Screams of pain and the sounds of a possible fight were heard from the riders, as some other soldiers hurried forwards to help with the prisoner.  
“Ow! He bites!”  
“Watch out for his kicks, he is rather strong!”  
“Try and stun him temporarily, before he injures anyone else or himself!”  
Elros saw one soldier driving his fist in the stomach of a person with tied hands, who ended up bending forwards from the pain and lack of air. While the face was covered behind a iron mask, Elros had heard enough rumours about the Warg Rider to understand that it was him.  
“Maedhros and Maglor should get to know this! I know that they have long wanted to see the true face of the Warg Rider ever since they first saw him in battle!”  
He turned and hurried back in the direction he came from.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

“Owww…I don’t understand why this pain in my abdomen remains! Normally it has gone away very fast after a battle!”  
Maedhros was starting to get in a bad mood because of the stomach pain, given that she was very sensitive for any changes there as a result of the time in Angband. Elrond’s healing powers lessened the pain a bit, but not enough to make it vanish completely.  
“Maybe it is a reaction on that we are…close to that place?” Maglor suggested, helping his sister to tie the strings in her back brace. From the way Maedhros remained silent, she seemed to possibly be in the same thoughts. Just as the red-haired Fëanorian princess had put on her tunic and laid her right arm in a sling to let her right shoulder rest a bit, Elros looked inside the tent.  
“Guess what! Some of Lord Finarfin’s riders just came back, and they have captured the Warg Rider! They have taken him to one of the tents in the middle of the camp!”  
The last two Fëanorians shared a look between them, with Maglor unconsciously touched an old scar near his right ear, a memory of the first time they had seen the Warg Rider in battle during the Dagor Aglareb in the 60th year of the First Age, over 527 years ago.  
“Forget the tea for now, I want to check if we finally can see the Warg Rider’s real face without that iron mask!”  
Her stomach pain temporarily forgotten in light for those highly unexpected news, Maedhros threw a cloak around her before hurrying out from the tent with Maglor on her heels, leaving their nephew and the twins remaining. A nervous silence fell over the tent once the two Feanorians had vanished.  
“They must really have wanted to get the real identity of the Warg Rider to be in such a hurry,” Elrond commented in a dull voice after several moments, earning a odd look from his twin.  
“You think so? Yes, you two of any people should know firsthand how obsessed my damned family can be about things!” answered Celebrimbor in a very frustrated and raised voice, trying not to yell at them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Inside a tent in the middle of the camp, Rûsa had been tied to the main wooden pillar standing in the tent’s middle. By now, Finarfin and Gil-galad had arrived at hearing that he was captured.  
“We apologize that we had to be a little rough on him here in camp despite your orders to not harm him, sire, but he could have hurt himself if we had allowed him to move around like he did.”  
The cavalry Elves really regretted that they had been forced to hit Rûsa in the stomach in order to make him go limp before so they could tie him to the pillar, but what choice had they been given? Finarfin nodded in understanding, seeing that Rûsa had gotten a few good hits on his men despite having his hands tied behind his back. That iron mask did a good job of stunning someone if you gave a hard headbutt to that person.  
“Sometimes involuntary violence must be used against our own aversion. Go to the healers and treat your injures, you all look like you have been in a fist-fight.”  
As the soldiers left, Gil-galad turned to face Rûsa who faced him with his own eyes, refusing to speak. He did not know why, but he had a feeling that he had seen that eye shape before, even of the black eye-colour was not the eye colour he remembered. But there was something familiar in those eyes indeed.  
“Well, whoever you are, so is this the end of this game to hide your face behind that iron mask. It is time to reveal your real face for us now.”  
Finarfin moved his hands closer to the iron mask, only to stop at the warning snarl from Rûsa, which was reinforced by that he snapped at the High King's fingers with his teeth.  
“Watch it, I once had a easy-angered nephew, my oldest brother’s fourth son, who was not above biting people in a fist-fight and I am not going to back down from someone else just because of that.” Finarfin thought as he took hold of the iron mask and found the clasps which held the mask together around Rûsa’s head.  
“Gil-galad, please hold his head still so I can open the clasps. I do not want him to bite me,” requested Finarin to his grand-nephew, which Gil-galad did.  
“I am not sure that you should do this, sister, you are paler than normal and looks like you are ready to faint…”  
“I have survived Angband, brother, and will not let my stomach pain stop me right now.”  
Just as Maglor moved away the tent opening so he and Maedhros could enter, Finarfin opened the last clasp. Then, he quickly removed the iron mask before Rûsa could react on getting the mask away from his face.  
“Uncle, we heard that…”  
Maedhros stopped, frozen at seeing what the scene in front of her was. Finarfin with the famed iron mask in his hands, Gil-galad holding the dirty rag that had covered the Warg Rider’s hair, and…  
Maedhros felt long-forgotten memories of her time in Angband return as she saw the scarred face in the shape of her own face from youth, the black eyes surrounded by thick, unkempt reddish brown hair with a hint of copper-red under all the dirt. The pain in her abdomen felt like a killing stab in her stomach when Morgoth’s mocking voice echoed in her memories:  
“ _Seeing that you are a female, I think there is a perfect purpose for you to do here under Sauron’s tender care. Lets see how capable you are at being a breeding female, if your parents has passed down their fertility to yourself. Breeding slaves with the blood of your father…would be a good addition to my future Orcs_.”


	3. Guilt and betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Halls of Mandos, things are not always what they looks like...

Year 587 in the First Age, the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. Thanks to the War of Wrath, it had been a very small surprise that the Halls of Mandos got new inhabitants after each battle. It was not uncommon for different _fëar_ to await what kind of news the newly-arrived souls were to bring along. One individual _fëa_ was staying away from the others, hiding on top of a small balcony where she would not be seen. The reason to why she was hiding? Rather simple: She was seen as the traitor who had caused the Fall of Gondolin.

“You have been here every time it comes new arrivals. Is there someone who you expects to see among them, daughter of my own daughter?” 

Maeglin jumped in surprise, both at the sound of her grandfather’s voice and his hand on her shoulder.

“Haru Fingolfin! Well…I…yes, I am waiting on someone.”

Ever since her death, Maeglin had held herself on a distance from her maternal family, fearing their reactions about the Fall of Gondolin far more than what she feared the hate of the people of Gondolin who ha died in the same event 77 years earlier.

Mentally, Fingolfin sighed deeply at his second granddaughter’s fearful reaction to his touch. She was still affected by the torture the Dark Lord had used on her to have her reveal where Gondolin were hidden. Even if they was well hidden under the grey robes that all _fëar_  wore here in the Halls, he knew that Maeglin’s spiritual body had scars.

“If you want to look on the newcomers without having to fear that you might get chased by people from Gondolin again for the unknown number of time it already has happened in the last 77 years, I can try and cause a loud brawl between me and that hot-blooded brother of mine. With some luck, maybe we even can trick his sons to get into it as well, I know that Angrod wanted to get even with Caranthir over some old disagreement…”

“As long as I do not get involved, do what you can to get the attention away from me.”

Fingolfin nodded and left to find Fëanor somewhere in the deeper parts of the Halls.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

When he arrived to where Fëanor was, Fingolfin took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Time for that kind of sibling fights I never have liked to have with him. Being ignored in childhood and getting insults are one thing, but trying to cut my throat open with a sword in the middle of open daylight in front of people? No, this time I am the one to start the fight on purpose, not my brother.”

His grey eyes filled with determination, Fingolfin entered the chamber in where Fëanor was, leaving the door half-open. Not long after that loud screams, different kinds of insults and the sounds of a fist-fight was heard from the inside. The door opened fully with a loud sound when Fingolfin was pushed outside, quickly followed by a rather pissed off Fëanor. The second-born son of Finwë smirked at seeing his brother’s angry face, Fëanor had jumped at the bait almost immediately, making the whole plan easier.

“Atar and uncle Fëanáro is fighting again!”

As hoped, their own children were the first ones to notice the fight. Not so surprising really on a second thought, as they had been placed in chambers close to each others.

“Atar, what are you doing!? You never enter fist-fights with our mad uncle normally!”

“Don´t call our father mad, your foolish brat who spent all your reign as High King hidden in that city of yours…!”

In a rare display of anger, Turgon reacted on being called a brat by Celegorm.

“Brat!? Last time I checked our birthdates, Finrod and I am only nine Years of the Trees younger than you, Tyelkormo!”

And naturally it ended up with almost every dead member in the House of Finwë getting involved in the fight.

“Pityafinwë, Telufinwë, stop cheering on your father and get Haru over here instead before more people notices the fight…!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Meanwhile, as Fingolfin created the distraction, Maeglin was getting help from her other two uncles, Fingon and Argon, to get closer to where the newly-arrived souls normally stayed at the arrival into the Halls of Mandos. Three pairs of eyes would cover the area faster than just one pair, even if Maeglin did have very good sight in darkness thanks to where she had been born and raised for her first 80 years in life.

“Just a quick question if you allows it, dear niece: How does the Elf you seek, actually look like and who is he to you? Some of your father’s servants from Nan Elmoth, perhaps?”

To Fingon’s surprise, a small blush did actually show up on Maeglin’s pale cheeks. Refusing to meet his eyes, she answered:

“By the laws in Valinor that the Valar created, I am _married_ to him.”

“What!?”

Poor Argon got a such shock by Maeglin’s words, that he ended up running with his face first into a stone pillar by mistake. Not that Fingon blamed his youngest brother’s reaction, he had stopped running himself at hearing what his half-Avari niece said. Sitting up with his hand on his face to stop the nose bleeding he had gotten from running into the stone pillar like that, Argon slowly rose to his feet.    

“Not to bring up any bad memories for you now, Maeglin, but exactly how did that marriage actually happened? You have said yourself that the closest thing to a possible crush you had on someone in Gondolin, was your feelings for Idril as a new mother-figure.”

Maeglin first did not answer, looking down on her own feet as she wrung her transparent hands in uneasiness. For a moment, she was unsure if she would reveal exactly how she and Rûsa had ended up as a bounded couple even without any courtship and exchange of wedding rings. Then, Maeglin remembered his tender moments when they had been left alone in his own chamber after the forced coupling, how Morgoth seemed to have used some sort of very emotional blackmail to make Rûsa obey his command to make Maeglin his concubine despite that neither one of them wanted it.

“Long story short: My time as captive in Angband, Morgoth’s twisted idea of making me keep quiet about my betrayal of Gondolin and what I suspect as very emotional blackmail in order to make him obey the command to make me his.”

Yes, her enforced relationship with Rûsa was not their own idea, just like how Eöl and Aredhel had been ensnared in the creepy magic left behind by Melian in Nan Elmoth.      

 

They had now arrived to the hall where the newly-arrived _fëar_ were awaiting their turn to be greeted by Lord Námo. Maeglin tried to find Rûsa somewhere among them, looking for that scar she remembered touching with her fingers in his sleeping face from that single time she had woken up ahead of him.

“One of the bigger problems with finding Rûsa is that he never showed his face for me, he always carried that iron mask to hide his face and when we shared his bed, he would always sleep with his face away from me with his hair covered most of it from been seen. But once when I woke up ahead of him, I tried to use my fingers to touch his face without waking him up. I remember feeling an old V-shaped scar on the left side of his face, going along his jaw line and in a straight line from his ear down to the jaw.”

That scar had been the only thing Maeglin had gotten to feel, as Rûsa had showed signs of waking up and she quickly had to pretend that she still were sleeping. Sure, it was not much of a help in distinguish him from the other new arrivals in the Halls, but beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, Maeglin doubted that anyone would want to have their face unprotected in Angband if they were able to find anything to use as protection against the Orcs cruel hands and whips.

“Well, better than nothing, I guess…”

Neither Maeglin or Argon failed to notice the change in Fingon’s voice, as if he lost himself in a bad memory for a few moments. Sadly, after a good time of looking, they had to give up the search. It was pretty clear that Rûsa was not among those newcomers, and Maeglin felt a strange feeling of disappointment over that. Her memories went back to that Midsummer Day when Gondolin had fallen.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~ 

_Idril holding the 7-year-old Earendil in her arms, dragging Maeglin along behind her with one hand._

_“This is all my fault, it is all my fault…!! If only…”_

_“Maeglin, stop blaming yourself!” Idril snapped over her shoulder, stopping to put down Earendil on the road and taking Maeglin’s face in her hands. Behind them, they could hear Tuor calling out orders to other survivors who had entered the secret tunnel Idril had ordered to be built._

_“We have already spoken about this ever since you came back and revealed the truth about why you had been missing for three months to me and Tuor, you could not have known which date the attack would happen! For now, focus on getting away!”_

_Unable to say anything in answer because of the now so familiar guilt in her heart, Maeglin could only nod weakly._

_“Mom, Maeglin, watch out!”_

_An stray rock thrown from a trebuchet flew into the cliffs above, breaking it into several smaller rocks which fell down towards them._

_“Idril, move away!”_

_Maeglin pushed Idril forwards, leaving herself to take the hit of the falling rock. Her yell of pain seemed to deafen all other sounds around them as both of Maeglin’s legs were crushed under the rock because of the gravitational force and weight._

_“Maeglin!”_

_“Dad! Dad, dad, help us! Lady Maeglin is injured!”_

_Hearing the screams of his wife and son, Tuor hurried to come. There, he helped Idril remove the rock and picked up Maeglin in his arms to carry her. The pain was so strong that it would have been more of a mercy if she had fainted the moment her legs were crushed._

_“N-no…leave me behind, please leave me behind! I can’t walk with both of my legs crushed like this, I will only slow you down!”_

_“Stop squirming before I drop you, Maeglin…!”_

_“A crippled survivor is of no use in the wildness! Leave me here, you needs to get away…” Maeglin pleaded in pain before she suddenly felt a presence in her mind, an voice which had been quiet over the past months._

_“Where are you, Lómiel? I know that you are still alive. Come to me.”_

_In a cold terror which made her blood freeze in her veins, Maeglin realized that_ _Rûsa could sense her. The forced union of their bodies had made them a part of each others, heart joined with heart, mind joined to mind._

_“No…no, no, NO! Stay out of my mind, Rûsa! Don’t come over here! Don’t come any closer to me!”_

_The fear of that Rûsa would find and kill the survivors because of the mind link to her, caused Maeglin to get panic. In a abrupt act of desperation to not have her cousin and her family killed because of her, Maeglin shove herself free from Tuor’s arms and threw herself over the edge of the cliff they were on. As she saw the rocks rush to meet her body, a horrified scream from Rûsa echoed in her mind.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

“I am so sorry, Rûsa…but I had to protect my remaining family…” Maeglin thought as she started to cry. Over the years since her death and by knowing the truth about their enforced relationship, Maeglin had never once blamed Rûsa if he wished to be free from her. They had been forced together by Morgoth, an even worse fate possibly waiting for her if he had not taken her. And yet her own heart were still filled with aching pain and regret at the thought of how her death must have broken his heart.

“ _Child, what brings you here?_ ”  

Maeglin looked up, still crying, at hearing the voice. It was Námo, the Lord of the Dead. Gently, the Judge of the Valar picked her up in his hands and walked over to his throne, where he sat down with Maeglin in his lap. There, he waited for her tears to end before he did anything else. The Doomsman might be a stern Lord of the Halls and seemed grim, but he was not above helping the spirits if they needed to talk about something. Maeglin, with her involuntary betrayal of Gondolin, was one of those souls who needed to lessen her heart pretty often.

“I do not know how to explain it, but…I am worried for Rûsa, fearing what will happen to him the day he arrives here to the Halls. As he has been a servant of Morgoth for his whole life, he is going to be locked up in here for a very long time, right?” Maeglin asked, trying to stop new tears from leaving her eyes.

“ _The one bound to your heart is a gentle soul trapped in a life he hates. People might see him as a servant of Morgoth, but he has never killed anyone if it's not in battle or imperative. Yes, he might be a unwilling Kinslayer, but he has been forced to kill other Elves to survive instead of doing it for evil. I shall do my best to ensure that he will be free from his darkness in this life and that he will not be marked by his past once he leaves my Halls,_ ” Námo answered while looked at a spot above Maeglin’s head, thinking deeply about something. When Maeglin was about to slip down back in the ground, she remembered something else.

“Say, Lord Námo, is it possible for me to meet Rûsa’s mother here in the Halls? The night before he helped me escape from Angband, I heard him mumble something in his sleep…something about his mother. Even if she might not like the news of hearing how his life is, I am sure that she would be happy to at least know that he still is alive.”

But to Maeglin’s great surprise, Námo shook on his head, looking even more grim than normally. Sighing, the Vala said:

“ _Nay, child. It is impossible for you to meet her here in the Halls. She has never been here, even if she rightfully should have entered here shortly after that hopeless father of hers, had it not been for Morgoth’s Dark Magic placed on her to ensure that her son was conceived. Under the Doom of the Noldor she is, and one of only three members left alive of her father’s House if you do not count_ _Rûsa among them. Mother and son have meet each others many times on the battlefield, but now time for their real meeting face to face has come. She will face the child she believed to be dead by Sauron’s hands right after birth, and he will met the mother who he believed to be dead from childbirth. Rumours about her relationship to one of your uncles has always been around her, an Oath slowly destroying her family from the inside, the ill fate of being a Kinslayer and the sorrow of being denied the only child she has borne lies heavy on her shoulders. In her youth she was a famed beauty but is now forever marred by her time in the Enemy’s hands, legendary for being her father’s first Heir despite being female and the firstborn grandchild to the first High King of the Noldor in Aman._ ”

Maeglin listened to every word the Vala said, and gasped in shock when she realized that it could only be one person who Námo spoke off.

“You can’t mean…Lady Maedhros of the House of Fëanor?!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who wonders: no, Maeglin did not know about Rûsa's parentage before. He only knows that he is born between a Noldor mother and Avari father


	4. A lost child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the reveal of who the Warg Rider is, brings up a dark memory for Maedhros from Angband....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning for some very emotional scenes in this chapter, along with a event that most women likely would fear....

Maedhros felt as if she was unable to breathe, unable to take her eyes away from Rûsa. In her heart and mind, chaos was storming around with her feelings. This could not be true, it had to be a nightmare she would wake up from any moment now, this Elf could not possible be the half-Avari son who had been taken from her as a newborn…

By instinct, Maedhros unconsciously placed her left hand on her abdomen in a weak attempt to block out the awakened memories from Angband. One single word left her lips in a trembling voice:

“Russa...”

The name she had given her son in her mind at seeing that he had darker red hair than herself, naming him after the Quenya word for “red-haired” in lack of anything else. Then, the shock became too much for Maedhros and she collapsed in a dead faint.

“Sister? Maedhros! Maedhros, what is wrong?!”

Maglor understood the reason behind his sister’s fainting the moment as he saw Rûsa as well. Without saying a word, yet wearing a facial expression of pure suffering mixed with old anxiety, he quickly picked up his unconscious sister from the ground and hurried out from the tent.

“Káno? Makalaurë, what is going on?” Finarfin asked in confusion, before following after his nephew and Gil-galad came as well, leaving Rûsa alone in the tent. But Rûsa had entered a state of shock too at seeing Maedhros. The soft evening wind had carried her body scent into the tent and since Rûsa early had learnt to use his sense of smell to find out if someone was male or female, his mind became filled with her scent. He did not understand why, but something in his heart told him that he should know that scent.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~ 

Maglor burst into his and Maedhros shared tent, surprising Elrond and Elros who still was in the tent.

“Ada Maglor?  Did aunt Maedhros faint from her stomach pain?”

The last living son of Fëanor shook on his head, before carefully placing Maedhros on one of the beds and Elrond checked on one artery in her neck. He could tell that the female Fëanorian’s heart was beating very fast, likely from the shock earlier. Her breath had became uneven again as cold sweat showed up on her forehead.

“Not good…I think she might have another nervous breakdown on the way…”

Maedhros' whole body suddenly started to become very stiff, before she began to tremble violently. Her grey eyes went up so fast that Elrond jumped back in a scare, but there was no sign of awareness. Instead there was a look of pure horror in them, and Maedhros started to twist and turn in the bed while her mouth formed unsaid words. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Maglor go pale in fear.

“No, no, no…not a new flashback of her time in Angband, the last one happened the night after that Amrod and Amras were killed at Sirion, Sauron and Morgoth nearly broke her mind with false illusions of her whole family being dead…!”

As Maglor spoke the last, a faint sound of terror left Maedhros. All three of them hurried to the bed.

“Grab those ropes on my bed, we needs to tie her hand and feet to the bed posts and then using a rope to keep her still on the bed or she will harm herself during the time she remains in the flashback! She unknowingly nailed her throat when Fingon’s death trigged another flashback of Angband…ai!”

Maedhros' left hand tore up in the air and tore up a bleeding wound on Maglor’s cheek with her thumb nail. Elrond and Elros were actually deeply frightened. Yes, they had seen some madness in Maedhros' eyes over the years, but that had often been the result of the severe stress brought from the Oath and the sorrow of losing all but one brother.     

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

_It was a pure miracle that she even had managed to carry the baby to full term, given the torture Maedhros had been exposed to over the past year. Her injures had seriously threaten to make it a difficult birth. And difficult birth it had been indeed. Never before had Maedhros realized just how difficult it actually had been for her mother Nerdanel when she had carried Curufin and the twins during her last two pregnancies. More than once during the birth, Maedhros had believed that she was close to entering the Halls of Mandos because of the pain and close-calls of her spirit leaving her body. But now it was all over._

_“A son,” one of the slave midwives whispered in unclear Quenya and Maedhros held back a dry sob. Once more, her family’s habit of getting more sons than daughters had shown itself. But Maedhros were too worn out to care. A tiny little fist took hold of one copper-red lock of her hair. The sight made Maedhros start crying again._

_“Russa…I am so sorry, so sorry for bringing you into this world like this…”_

_Suddenly the other Elvish slaves was being pushed aside, and Sauron’s now far too familiar shadow fell over her. Despite being so worn out and still in pain from the birth, Maedhros tried to curl into a ball to hide the small baby_ _bundle against her chest. Not that helped much, not with how broken and damaged her body had become since her capture._

_“My, my. Looks like you finally have gotten the little brat out of your body, sweet princess Maitimo. Lord Melkor will be very pleased to hear that.”_

_Sauron’s fingers felt like ice against her cheek, making her shudder. Then, before Maedhros could react, he had taken hold of her shoulder and she was forced over to her other side. A small cry in displeasure was heard from the baby over the sudden movement. A cruel smile was on Sauron’s lips when he saw that the infant was alive, before he placed his hand around Maedhros' throat. She gasped for breath, tried to get dry air down in her lungs. By instinct because she was being choked, Maedhros lessened her hold on her baby. That was what precisely what Sauron wanted. Grabbing hold of the rag while still holding the choking grip around Maedhros'  throat, he lifted the baby out from her arms. As one could expect, this caused Maedhros to panic as her eyes became wide in fear._

_“No! No, don’t take him! Give him back!”_

_She tried to throw herself after Sauron, but two Orcs took hold of her arms and held her in place. Maedhros' maternal instincts screamed at her to take back her child, but there was nothing she was able to do. Crying violently in despair and fear for what they planned to do with her child, Maedhros screamed:_

_“NO, NO!! DON’T TAKE HIM, PLEASE!! GIVE HIM BACK!! GIVE BACK MY SON!!"_

_The sound of her son’s faint crying being cut off by the closing of the heavy iron door, felt like if Maedhros’ own heart had been stabbed with a knife._

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Maedhros woke up with a start, feeling tears flowing from her eyes. For a few moments she could not recognize where she was, then she remembered the tent’s roof design.   

“My son…”

A small wail in despair left her lips, a mix of guilt, sadness and anger growing inside her. Guilt over her own helplessness to stop Sauron from taking her newborn son from her, sadness over that she had lost the only child she likely ever would have given birth to, and finally anger at the memories of how the different scars had covered what little she had been able to see of Rûsa’s body beyond the large scars which disfigured her son’s face. It was like seeing her own scarred face in a mirror, during the first months after that Fingon had saved her and her body slowly recovered from the years of torture. A fair face which a young Maedhros had been so proud over inheriting from her own paternal grandmother Miriel Þerindë, and now forever destroyed.

“What have they done to him under all those years that I believed him to be dead…to make him so feared as the Warg Rider…?”

A quick glare on the rope tied around her left hand, told Maedhros that Maglor must have found it necessary to tie her to the bed posts, something which only happened during her flashbacks of Angband. Having created a way to free herself from such bindings without needing to wake up her brother, Maedhros slowly moved closer to her left hand and took hold of the rope with her teeth. It took some time, but the rope soon came off after that she pulled in the opposite direction with her teeth. Once her left hand was free, Maedhros could tie up the other ropes which held her feet and right forearm. She made a face when she bent down to reach her feet. Sleeping with her back brace still on was not very convenient.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Inside the tent in which he was being held, Rûsa could tell from the lack of sounds and movements outside that it must be night time. With almost everyone sleeping, only the guards would be awake. After some failed attempts to at least give him some water to drink, the guards had used a cloth gag to prevent Rûsa from any further attempts to biting them and also possibly trying to kill himself by biting his tongue. With the cloth gag set between his teeth and tied behind his head, all Rûsa could do right now was to think of the situation.

“Not good…all my hidden weapons were taken away, they used a different kind of knot to bind my hands than what I am used to, I am already weaker than normally from not eating anything over the past days and being in the middle of the camp means that it will be a lot of soldiers to catch me again even if I should manage to free myself…”

He had seen the Noldor soldiers taking away the other slaves to this camp earlier when they hade checked for whatever which was left of Angband, and he feared that they might suffer the consequences if he tried to escape. That frightening threat alone had been the main reason to why he never had tried to escape his position as War Leader to Morgoth, the fear of harming others thanks to his own selfish actions.   

“I do not want the any of the others to die because of me…hm?”

Footsteps outside the tent. Those of a Elf, quiet yet still oddly sounding, like that of someone who had a minor limp when walking. Rûsa knew that kind of walking, many times the slaves of Angband was prevented from escape attempts by some injury to their legs or feet. While it was basically unseen, he himself had a similar style of walking thanks to an old injury in his right foot, the result of getting a battle wound from the sword belonging to one of the former Noldor High Kings, the one who wore his long dark hair in great plaits braided with gold, right before another Balrog tied him up with its fire whip and the Balrog lord Gothmog sliced his helmeted head open with his axe.

“Rûsa?”

The voice was female, thin and almost whispering, like someone who had damaged vocal cords. The red-haired She-elf from before? What was she doing here? A part of Rûsa suddenly wanted her to not come inside, a strange feeling of shame flowing over him at the thought of her seeing him like this.

“No…please don’t come in…!”

 

Even the gentle light from the lamp in her hand did hurt his eyes, especially as his eyes were far more accustomed to the underground darkness. While Rûsa was able to stand the sunlight to a certain point, there was a limit to how much he could stand before his sensitive eyes became useless in light, the main reason to why his senses of smell, hearing and sensory were so high. Trying to protect his eyes, Rûsa shut his eyes.

“Sch…don’t be afraid, I won’t touch you…”

Soft, gentle words spoken in clear Sindarin with a weak hint of a foreign dialect, as if she were not born in Middle-earth, but instead had arrived there as a fully grown adult raised to speak a different language.

“How foolish of me, I should remember how it feels to have light after long periods of darkness…”

Maedhros covered the lamp with her cloak as Rûsa was almost overwhelmed by her scent, yet it still calmed him. And something seemed to awaken in his mind simply by hearing her voice, like it was a voice he once had heard when he was very young and basically forgotten over the years. And her red hair…

But no, it was impossible, he had always been told that his birth mother had died soon after his birth and he had only met the Fëanorians on the battlefield, never between the battles! As Rûsa slowly opened his eyes, he saw that Maedhros had left again. He did not understand why, but he suddenly had a very sad, painful feeling of abandonment in his heart. Confused about his own feelings and why he felt like this now when the only possible relationship he had allowed himself to have was with Maeglin despite their short time together, a tear left one of Rûsa’s black eyes.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Maedhros walked out from the camp, before she stopped on a small hill. There, she collapsed down on her knees and wept bitterly. Seeing Rûsa’s face again, even with the cloth gag, had indeed confirmed her worst fears. The feared Warg Rider, the most mysterious War Leader of Morgoth, was the son who had been taken by her almost right after birth. Anyone who was not blind, would be able to see the similarity between her and him. And this new knowledge brought forth a new horror in her heart:

Her son was already seen as a monster by Elves, even without knowing that he was a unknown member of the House of Fëanor. If people learned about that she was the mother to Rûsa, they would likely see it as proof of that Fëanor’s children were nothing else than cruel monsters, Oath or not.

“Why did this happen…? Will there be no end on the consequences from the Oath we swore without really understanding what ruin it would bring to us? My father died in the first battle…uncle Fingolfin, Fingon and everyone else of our cousins apart from Galadriel are gone too…only Gil-Galad, Idril, Earendil and the boys are left of uncle’s line…Celegorm, Caranthir and Curufin fell in the Second Kinslaying…and then Amrod and Amras at the Havens of Sirion…”

Maedhros was so deep in her sorrow and regret that she first did not hear footsteps behind her. But it was the soft voice of Finarfin who made her look up, still crying:

“Nelyo? What is wrong?”

Rare was it for Maedhros in those days to be addressed with her old childhood nickname apart from when Maglor would plead to her, so she nearly broke down again.

“Uncle…I…I…!”

As if she was a Elfling once more, ignoring everything about that her uncle was the current High King of the Noldor in Aman, Maedhros threw herself into Finarfin’s open arms. Despite the awkwardness of her being a head taller than him, Finarfin gently stroke her back as he whispered soothing words in her ear. What Maedhros needed right now was not a king, but the uncle from her childhood who always had been ready to try and help his nephews and nieces in whatever he could.

“There, there, Nelyo, easy now, my sweet niece…let it all come out and try to take a few deep breaths before trying to speak…you are completely exhausted, it is clear in your whole face…”

 

As Finarfin sat down with crossed legs on the ground, Maedhros laid down beside him and put her head in his lap, allowing Finarfin to stroke his long fingers thought her red hair during the wait on her calming down enough to speak.   

“This mysterious Warg Rider, who the freed slaves calls Rûsa, is your son born in Angband and fathered by another Elf captive, right? Don’t deny it, Nelyo, he is far too similar to you in face shape and hair colour to not be a descendant of your mother’s kin, famous for their red hair that is so rare among the Noldor. You are the only one of my father’s grandchildren who could have birthed him, being the only one who was captured by the Enemy. And you fears how people will react if it comes out that he is a unknown descendant of your father’s House, right?”  

Maedhros could only nod, still crying even if her tears were fewer now. 

“I thought that Morgoth had given orders to kill him right after birth, just to break me in spirit…while he said something about wanting my father’s blood in his Elf slaves, I never believed that he would really mean it…Morgoth hates my father and would gladly wipe out all of his line, his seven children and only grandchild, just to get rid of father’s descendants….by the Valar, what can they have done to my son under all those years that I have believed him to be dead?! Can he have been forced to father children of his own with different She-elves, like how I was forced to beget himself against my will?!” 

Finarfin held Maedhros still against his chest, his voice becoming stern as he tried to make her stop feeling upset.

“Nelyo…Nelyo, calm down! You are only upsetting yourself with such thoughts! I asked some of the freed slaves about what they knew about Rûsa, and according to them, he has not left any offspring, none at all, under all those years that he has been a adult! His only possible relationship they knows about, was with a captured Avari She-elf which only lasted for about a year before she entered the Halls of Mandos around the same time as Gondolin fell!”

That seemed to be the cure for her worries, for Maedhros drew one slow, long, deep breath before she became still in his arms. Not that Finarfin ever would blame her for having such fears. Ever since he had turned back to Aman, he had been having similar feelings of guilt and fear about the family members who he had left behind, those who had continued to Middle-earth. Each one of those horrific days when a message came from the Halls of Mandos about a family member’s death had nearly broken both Finarfin and his wife Eärwen along with what few family members of Finwë’s House that had stayed behind, only finding weak comfort in the knowledge that they eventually would be Reborn one unknown day in the unseen future.

“Sch, sch, Nelyo…you have every right to cry and feel confused about all of this mess. Your only child was stolen from you to increase your pain, and it was only natural for you to think that he had been killed as part of the torture you became the victim of. I have already set two of my most loyal men as guards outside the tent where Rûsa is, they won’t let anyone outside myself, Gil-galad, Maglor and yourself see him unless it is on my orders, so for now you will not have to worry for people to realize that he's your son. It is not ideal, I admit it, but I am sure that we soon can find a better solution on this…unexpected family problem of yours. Is that alright with you, Nelyo?”

Having worn herself out by all the crying, Maedhros could only nod in answer to her uncle. Seeing her sorrow in her eyes, Finarfin cradled her like a child in his arms once more and allowed his niece to fall asleep against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Rûsa is Maedhros' son in this AU


	5. Escaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormented by the new knowledge that her until-now-believed-to-be-dead son actually is alive and the feared Warg Rider, Maedhros fears for how things will be. Only that, Rûsa has different plans...

The next morning, Rûsa awoke to a very dry mouth and feeling light-headed. He knew that he needed food and water because he already was very weak from not eating the days before his capture, but the old fear of getting poisoned by the food was too strong in him. Many were the times when Sauron, as punishment for something, had added poison in Rûsa’s food and calmly sat back as he watched Rûsa’s agony when the poison had started to work, sometimes for hours before giving him the antidote.   

“It was either food-poisoning or deny me food for a week’s time, the two most common punishments that had with food to do…”

Rûsa was no stranger to starvation, but even he had a limit to how long he could go without food. Perhaps it was no surprise that he now did not have the strength to react when the cloth gag was taken away from his mouth.     

“Not good…I do not think he has eaten something at all over the last days, he barely reacts like he did yesterday when they captured him…”

A long braid, in red colour. Rûsa knew that it was the red-haired She-elf again, but he was too weak to react on her scent.

 

Maedhros felt a wave of worry when her son did not snarl or hiss at her touch. That unfocused look in his black eyes was a sign of being light-headed from a lack of food or water. Judging from how dry his lips were, Rûsa had not been drinking something on at least two days time. Yesterday was excused, given that he had tried to bite the guards before they had been able to give him water to drink, but the day before? Or the even earlier days?

“Do you have a spoon or something similar close by? I am not sure if he can drink by himself…”   

As the guard gave her a small cup with cold water, Maedhros knelt so she could pour in some liquid honey from a small bottle in her belt. Ever since Fingon had saved her to the price of her right hand, Maedhros could have problems with solid food at times and therefore had taken up the habit of always carrying some light snacks on her all the time so she still could get at least something in her. A glass bottle with liquid honey was a good example of that.

“Hopefully this might help…”

By now, Rûsa had smelled the scent of water in the air. In his mind, he hoped desperately that it was not a way of mentally torture him and not give him anything to drink at all. That had been a favourite tactic of the Orcs to make a slave obey their commands. A part of him feared that it would be poison in the water, but natural instincts to survive were stronger.  

“Poison or not…I want to live!”

The first spoonful water that Maedhros allowed her son to drink, seemed to awaken his spirit a bit. Gently, with all the skills she once had possessed in Aman as the firstborn of seven siblings and helping her parents in spoon-feeding all of her younger brothers until that they were able to feed themselves, she feed Rûsa spoonful after spoonful of water until that all the water was finished. She did not dare to give him more than the cup he just had drunk, in fear that his stomach might not be able to take it.

“There, this should be enough for now. I will come back in a few hours and see if he is able to eat some broth then. He should not have anything stronger yet, or he will be sick.”

The guards nodded, allowing Rûsa to be free from the cloth gag for a while. There was no need of gagging him when he was so weak from the lack of food and water. Carefully, Maedhros touched one of Rûsa’s cheeks with her hand. As expected, he now tried to avoid the touch. Giving the guards a nod, Maedhros took back the cup from one of them and left the tent. On her way back to hers and Maglor’s shared tent, a messenger came up to Maedhros, telling her that Finarfin requested her presence.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Finarfin was busy in looking through the contents of a small chest, when Maedhros entered his tent.

“You sent for me, uncle?”

He nodded, finally finding what he was seeking for.

“After our talk last night, I suddenly remembered something that Finrod requested me to give you if you still were alive. He said that it was very important.”

“Cousin Finrod wanted something to be given to me?”

Maedhros was greatly confused, why on Arda would her third-oldest cousin, Finarfin’s firstborn, want to give something to her? Given the mess that Celegorm and Curufin had created for him back in Finrod’s old realm Nargothrond, it would be far more logical to basically disown his Fëanorian cousins as an unspoken “ _Thanks a lot for NOT giving me help and sending me to my death, dear cousins_ ”. On the other hand, Finrod was a noble soul and someone who easily forgave people, so Maedhros were not too surprised. It had been Finrod, together with Maglor and Fingon, who had sung the most powerful songs of healing for her during her recovery. Finrod, who was the most like his father in character of his five siblings.   

“Yes, this is what he wanted me to give you. My wife would scold me for forgetting it until now…”

It was a roll of the kind of parchment which Noldor artists used for personal portraits, together with a letter tied together with silver lace. Having a feeling that the portrait was important and that she should open it first, Maedhros slowly unrolled it on the table.

“W-what?!”  

It was a hand-drawn portrait of Rûsa, as seen in profile from his left side, drawn in that soft-and-long-line style Finrod had when he did drawings. There was no mistake in that dark red hair or that V-shaped scar along his jaw line and from the left ear. Trying to keep her hand from trembling again, Maedhros opened the accompanying letter to see what Finrod had written.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

_Finrod had collapsed in front of Sauron’s throne, gasping for breath. As he did so, Sauron stripped from them their disguise and their kinds were revealed._

_“My, my, what do we have here? Eleven Elves and a Man! Now this is something unusual…bind them and take them to the dungeons, I will soon find out their names and their purposes in due time.”_

_As their hands were bound in chains and they were about to be led away by Orcs, running footsteps were heard in another hall leading to the throne room. A tall figure, who seemed to be holding his hands over his ears, showed up in the doorway._

_“SAAAAAAURON!! Stop making a such racket in here, there are actually people here who are trying to get some sleep in all the howling from your damn werewolves! There is no need of you adding more noise among the howling!”_

_Sauron simply rose one of his eyebrows at seeing who the person was, almost looking bored._

_“Since you are already up, why not leave for Angband as you had planned, then?”_

_The person made a low growl in anger, before stepping out in the light from the torches and Finrod had to hide a gasp of surprise. For a short moment, he had believed it to be Maedhros, before seeing that it was a male Elf. Similar in height to Maedhros,_ _the heavy scarred face in the shape of her unscarred face from youth back in Aman, the black eyes surrounded by thick, unkempt reddish brown hair with a hint of copper-red._

_“Oh, and Rûsa? Keep yourself away from the werewolves on the way out or they might…give you a few more scars: they seem to think that your lovely red hair is a piece of raw meat.” Sauron said in a soft, yet mocking voice. The Elf’s scarred face became even more disfigured when his lips were drawn back in a snarl, revealing yellow teeth._

_“I am NOT a errand boy to be sent between this place and Angband, you damned Maia!”_

_The red-haired Elf spit on the ground before he turned around, the movement making his unbraided hair flow around his shoulders, and left the throne room again. Then, Finrod did not see anything more of the unknown grandchild of Fëanor as he was dragged away, downwards to the dungeons.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

At the same time, Gil-galad was visiting the healing tents to check on his soldiers and the freed slaves. While many of them still, understandable, held a light of fear in their eyes and would curl up in defensive positions to protect their bodies from any possible harm if they were touched, the careful caring for their injuries along with getting real food and water had started to do some wonders for those slaves that was not too likely to enter the Halls of Mandos yet.

“How are things going here?”

One of the healers, who cleaned a arm wound on one freed Man slave, answered without looking up from his work: 

“A few of the freed slaves passed away during the night, but we did our best ensure that it was the least painful that we could arrange for them with milk of the poppy and other analgesic liquids and salves that we have.”

Gil-galad nodded. It was always sad when a life were lost despite all the skills that the healers had, but what could they do? The souls of the freed Elves would go to the Halls of Mandos where Morgoth would never be able to harm them again and the souls of the Second-born would go to whatever Eru had planned for the Men.

“W…w-where is…lord Rûsa…?

Nobody doubted that Rûsa meant a lot for the former slaves, not after listening to a few tales of how the, for the Noldor so feared, Warg Rider never took a life unless he could not avoid taking a life or forced himself to do a mercy killing in order to free a dying slave faster from the horrors of being a slave in Angband. But much to most of the healers and Gil-galad’s own private frustration, no one of the former slaves could tell them much about Rûsa’s personal life.

“We only know that he is born from a Noldor mother and a Avari father, my lord…”

“The father had already been forced to father several children with different She-Elves, lord Rûsa is mentioned to be the last one begotten before his father managed to kill himself…”

“No one here knows about his Noldor mother, all the few slaves that ever saw her before her death after giving birth to lord Rûsa, is long dead…”

“Thank you, any information about him is good, he is in another tent because of the injures he had gotten in battle. Do not fear, we won’t harm him,” Gil-galad was quick to say at seeing the worried faces.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Back in Finarfin’s tent, Maedhros had started to weep again. Tears fell on the letter, in which Finrod had done his best to tell her about who he had seen in Tol-in-Gaurhoth without trying to awaken too painful memories for her.

“Finrod…oh, by the Valar, why did you have to die back then before you could have told us…?”

As she had done many times over the years, Maedhros cursed the moment where she and her brothers had sworn that Oath together with their father. By saying those words, they had doomed themselves to become a faint shadow of what their House once had been. Once they had been the proud first line in the royal family, now feared as monsters willing to kill for getting back the Silmarils.

“Finrod…told me about the time he had seen Rûsa, once when we were spending time in the wildness as father and son again. He begged me to not tell anyone about it, he feared for how your reputation as my brother’s first-born would be so ruined that you could never be seen again as a possible ruler of our people if it came out that you have a baseborn child from the time in Angband.”

Finarfin held his arms around Maedhros, letting her cry without feeling shame of crying openly.

“Atar n-never cared for t-that I was born a female, for him I was the Third Finwë, h-his own firstborn Heir…Nelyafinwë…”

“Nelyo, go back to your own tent and rest for the reminding part of the day. These days, you are given one shock after another, along with memories that is from a very bad time in your life. Rest for now, or I fear that you will only make yourself more ill. Your health is already frailer than what you allow others to see, right?”

Maedhros nodded mutely. The past days, not even the whole War of Wrath, had not been good on her. As if her body had been linked to how long Morgoth remained a Dark Lord, her health had slowly become worse and worse. It was not shown, but in her heart, Maedhros knew that she was slowly dying. Her body, already destroyed in Angband to almost a mere shell of what it once had been back in Aman, was giving up. It would be a pure miracle if she were to survive the two months long travel by ship back to the land where she had been born, as she felt now.

“Yes, uncle.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

A few hours passed. Because of how he had grown up, Rûsa’s body had learnt to draw any sort of nutrition from whatever he was given to eat. As he had been given chicken broth to eat before, he could almost feel how energy slowly started to flow in his weakened body again.

“Good…first step made…now I have to find a way to get myself free from the ropes and find a weapon…”

He watched the two guards as they spoke in the Quenya from Aman, trying to understand the words. That Quenya was so different from the broken bites he had heard Noldor slaves speaking in Angband, so there was little else he could do than listening. While the two guards both had some suspicions about Maedhros' resemblance to the prisoner they guarded, they knew better than ask her directly. They did remember Maedhros well from the time in Aman and were rather worried about her, especially in light of that she now actually looked be very ill.

“For some reason, seeing the dark circles under lady Maedhros' eyes and the slow way she walks in, makes me think of her grandmother…”

“Yes, I might not be a healer, but it almost looks like she is Fading…hm?”

Suddenly they heard a strange sound from the inside of the tent, almost like a wheezy gasps for breath. Moving away the tent flap, the sight that greeted them was alarming:  

Rûsa had almost collapsed down on one side, landing in a very awkward position and it sounded like he had trouble to breath.

“Get those two young Half-elven twins in here, as they just passed by! I think he is about to throw up the food he was given earlier, even that small bowl of chicken broth must have been too much!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

In his and Maedhros' shared tent, Maglor was currently busy in singing an old song of healing for his sleeping sister, singing about the joyful days of their childhood where the most difficult tasks would be to babysit a small horde of young brothers and cousins on family meetings instead of having to spilling so much Elvish blood just to get the Silmarils back. Suddenly he felt a thin hand over one of his own hands. It was Maedhros, who had awoken and now shook sadly on her face. 

“…Káno…enough. We both know that it is no use…that my body is…”

In the next moment, she was interrupted in that it was a lot of movement outside the tent.

“What is going on?” Maglor asked as he looked out. One of Gil-galad’s men stopped quickly to answer:

“We are not too sure of exactly how it happened, but the Warg Rider managed to trick his guards into freeing him from his bonds before knocking them out and he is now holding lord Eärendil hostage!”

Maedhros went pale at hearing that. She quickly arose from her bed, allowed Maglor to help her tie the back brace to save time before both took their swords and followed along to where most of the soldiers were.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

If possible, the situation had become even worse during that short time. Not only had the weapon-less Eärendil a dagger against his throat, but Elrond and Elros had also been taken hostage with the help of two thin ropes, one around their neck each. All three of them stood so Rûsa, now wearing his iron mask and hiding his hair with the rag again, could use them as shields to defend both his front and back.   

“Something tells me that this is not the first time he has done a such situation, look at how he holds the dagger and the ropes over his shoulder, clearly he is no stranger to have control over more than one hostage…”

“Everyone, drop your weapons to the ground! Do not risk a misunderstanding where Eärendil and his sons are harmed!” commanded Eönwë as he came up to the two Noldorin High Kings. Much against their own wishes, the soldiers obeyed his words.

“Elrond, Elros!”

“Ada Maglor…agh!”

Elros were quickly made silent again as a slight tug on the rope tightened around his neck. No matter what they did, Rûsa was in the control right now.

“Is there something we can do?” wondered Maglor in worry, his father instincts telling him to free his foster sons before they were harmed. Then, at seeing Maedhros, Rûsa did something unexpectedly:

Using the right hand in which he held the ropes, he still held Eärendil in front of him, but he now used his left hand with the dagger to point at Maedhros. Moving from her, he pointed at the sword in her hand and made a sweeping move to the ground. There was no mistake in what he meant.

_Drop the sword to the ground._

Without even changing her facial expression, Maedhros obeyed the unsaid order. To prove that she held no hidden weapons on her, she held out her arms. Apparently satisfied, Rûsa let go of one of the ropes, releasing Elros.

“Run, Elros, run!” pleaded a terrified Elrond to his younger twin brother, who immediately hurried away and hid himself behind the Maia named Olórin before Rûsa changed his mind. Seeing that, Rûsa made a new movement with the dagger at Maedhros, clearly commanding her to come closer.

“Don’t move, everyone…Maglor, move yourself so you can catch Elrond,” Maedhros begged to her brother before she started to walk closer to Rûsa, Maglor doing what she requested. Judging from the way he held Eärendil and Elrond now, Rûsa was surprised when Maedhros suddenly stopped half-way towards him.

“I am not moving from this spot, until that you have let go of the young one.”

It seemed like Rûsa understood that Maedhros meant Elrond, as he did indeed let go of the older Half-elven twin. Too terrified to speak, the tight rope around his neck having awoken some unpleasant memories from his childhood, Elrond hurried into Maglor’s safe arms.

 

Now it was only Eärendil left to free, but Maedhros knew that she had to come close to Rûsa now. There was no other choice.

“What is he planning? And why me, of all people? Has he started tosuspect the truth, that I am his birth mother?”

Whatever the reason to choose her, Maedhros slowly moved closer. When Maedhros finally was only two or tree steps away from him, Eärendil was roughly tossed aside. In a speed that felt as fast as lightning, Rûsa overpowered her and in the next moment Maedhros felt the dagger towards her own throat as she was forced to kneel on the ground, Rûsa holding her arms behind her back with the help of the ropes he had used on Elrond and Elros earlier.

“Sister!”

“No, Káno! Don’t risk her to be harmed!” protested Finarfin, quickly holding back his nephew.

“You…brat…”

For Maedhros, the movement had brought up memories of similar events happening to her in Angband to break her pride. But unlike the previous times, she did not have a unborn child inside her to worry about and she already knew that she soon would enter the Halls of Mandos.

“Uncle, Gil-galad, let us pass! If we get out from the camp, we might be able to capture him again without risking to harm me!” Maedhros called in the Quenya that her family had spoken, purposely using the th-sound that Fëanor had always insisted on using instead of the s-sound. It was not many who knew that way of speaking Quenya those days, and Finarfin nodded. Gil-galad gritted his teeth, then moved his hand as a silent command to open a path for Rûsa and Maedhros. Seeing his chance to escape, Rûsa dragged Maedhros along as he rushed to where the horses were kept.  

“He plans to steal a horse! Stop them!”

“No, lady Maedhros will be harmed if we try to…!”

Maglor made a sharp whistle, making his own chestnut gelding come galloping towards Rûsa and Maedhros.

“Sister, take my horse for now! We will come after as fast as we can!”

Maedhros barely had time to nod in agreement, before Rûsa forced her up on a small cliff, from where they jumped on the gelding and quickly rode away from the camp. Maglor’s gelding was not just a young and healthy horse in his prime, he was also very fast despite having two people riding on him.  

“Eärendil, are you alright?”

“As alright one can be, after just having a dagger towards your throat…”

Suddenly Eärendil went quiet, and began to seek in his robes, slowly getting a look of dismay on his face as he realized something.

“The Silmaril I have, the bag with it inside is gone!”

“WHAT?!”

“When the Warg Rider attacked me to take me hostage…in the fight there when my twin sons came to help…he must have mistaken it for something else!”

Slowly the deeper meaning of Eärendil’s words dawned, and only Eönwë managed to keep the panic from spreading.

“We must ride after them….Now! Take back both my niece and the stolen Silmaril before something worse happens!” said a  terrified Finarfin as he hurried to his own horse, fearing for what might happen to Maedhros. Who knew what Rûsa could do with his own, unknown birthmother given that he had been living in Angband for his whole life? Even if the slaves had told them that Rûsa had never harmed a woman by free will, it still did not mean that Maedhros was outside danger with that feral son of hers. From the way Maglor’s face had gone pale as well, he seemed to think the same.


	6. Those who seek revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa might have been able to escape from the Noldor camp by using Maedhros as hostage, but enermies are still around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Warning, this chapter contains a scene that can be misinterpreted if you do not read the entire chapter. For more information, see the following author’s note at the end of this chapter.

The chase after Rûsa and Maedhros led the riders deep into the wasteland between the camp and Angband. Soon they arrived at a natural “crossway” with no less than five different paths apart from the one they had just arrived on. Poor Maglor whimpered in worry as Celebrimbor dismounted his horse to try and find a hoof pint that could reveal which way they had taken.

“Not good, clearly he is attempting to shake us off…”

A rumble from the sky interrupted Celebrimbor, hinting that a storm was on the way.

“Oh no, if it starts raining, we will lose the hoof pints from my gelding…”

Sadly, it seemed like the weather was not on their side. A heavy rain started to fall from the sky, making it impossible to find the track for them. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Maedhros felt colder than she ever had done before in her life. The sudden rain had surprised her and Rûsa as well, but given the condition of her weakening body, she was more sensitive to changes in the temperature than she otherwise would be.  

“Is it Sauron’s Dark Magic again that prevents me from entering the Halls of Mandos again? Or is it something else…?”

_Crack!_

The sound of the burning firewood falling down to the ground, woke Maedhros up from the uneasy sleep she had been in. Blinking to awaken more properly, she saw that Rûsa was checking on the small fire he had built earlier to dry them both up in the cave he had found. And his own cloak of wolf fur was drawn over her to keep her warm.

“You have awoken.”

Much to Maedhros' private surprise, Rûsa’s voice was surprisingly soft yet still held power. A powerful, well-spoken voice just like that of her own father Fëanor. Looking at her son as he came closer, Maedhros even noticed that it was something of a blacksmith’s hands he had, with no less than four blacksmiths in the family she could recognize that kind of blisters everywhere. Perhaps that could explain his weapons, fitting him so well if he had made them himself. Careful, Rûsa knelt at her side, barely touching Maedhros' hand with his fingers.

“Your hand is…cold?”

Somehow, his voice revealed that he was not unfamiliar with seeing a Elf who was Fading. Rather, it was only natural given that he had been raised among slaves his whole life.

“I have been like this for a very long time…no doubt that that is Sauron’s work that I have not entered the Halls of Mandos yet. By all rights, I should have been the second one in my family to enter there, after my lord father,” Maedhros answered in a repellent voice at seeing the pity in his eyes, dragging her hand back under the fur cloak. The first real contact between them, and yet it all felt so wrong. Why did she have to be close to her death, when finding out that her only child actually was alive and seeing him for the first time since he was newborn? Sensing that Maedhros wanted to be alone, Rûsa went back to sit at the fire, guarding the cave opening in case someone found them. Before long, he found himself asleep as well, remembering a very old memory that he almost had forgotten over time.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

_Rûsa was perhaps no more than 7 years old, but he knew one thing:_

_He hated his life. Hated the darkness in the underground tunnels where the slaves were kept, the cruel Orcs with their whips and chains, Sauron with that triumphantly smile of his, and finally, on top of the list, the Dark Lord Morgoth. Because the Dark Lord was the reason to why he had been created, why Sauron seemed to single him out from the other slaves._

_“Place these hair-braids over there. Don’t dare to touch anything or you can count on not getting any dinner tonight.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_Giving Sauron a glare over his small shoulder, Rûsa put down the five long braids of golden, silver and black Elvish hair. The braids had, until currently, belonged to five different enslaved She-elves who had died in childbirth or otherwise related to their role as breeding slaves the day before. Two had passed away from blood loss during birth, the third one from being unable to deliver the stillborn baby out of her weakening body and the final two from internal bleedings after losing their unborn children in miscarriages._

_“Damn it, does master Melkor and I have to send out Orcs to capture more female Elves for breeding again…”_

_Ignoring Sauron’s mutterings, Rûsa took a quick chance to look closer on other Elvish braids that was hanging_ _in a neat order on the hall. One braid in partially, caught Rûsa’s attention. A copper-red one, shining like polished coppar in the weak light._

_“Pretty…”_

_Bewitched by the red braid’s colour, Rûsa tried to reach up to it, wanting to touch the braid. However, suddenly a large, black hand caught his tiny little fist. It was Morgoth. The three Silmarils in his black iron crown shone with such a strong light that the small Elfling was blinded._

_“I would not touch that braid if I were you, little one. Surely you do not want to cause the spirit of your dear mother distress?”_

_Crying, both from the pain in his eyes and from his whole right arm, Rûsa whispered in pain and fear:_

_“W-what?!”_

_Sauron and Morgoth had made this plan from the moment they had ordered the Orcs to forcefully shave off all of Maedhros' red hair after that she had given birth to Rûsa_ _as one final humiliation, before Morgoth had taken her to be chained upon Thangorodrim._

_“Ah, have not anyone told you, child? I have found a spell to bind the soul of a She-elf, who has died as a breeding slave, into their own hair. So if even single hair in the braid would be snapped, the trapped soul would be_ _severely tortured. And if you do not obey our orders, it will be Mother who suffers for_ _your disobedience,” Sauron smiled with a demonic smile, enjoying the look of pure horror on Rûsa’s small face. With a scream of terror as his black eyes looked on the red braid again, the young Elfling rushed out from the room.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Rûsa awoke with a painful gasp for breath, trying to calm down his fast-breathing heart. It was a very long time ago since he last had that horrible flashback. Reaching into a small bag hung from his leather belt, he carefully pulled out a long, copper-red braid which he held so gently that one could almost think that it was a fragile item of glass.  

“Mother…”

He cast a glare towards where Maedhros seemed to be asleep deeper inside the cave. In truth, he knew that he was being a fool in this very moment. Choosing a clearly ill hostage and taking her away when she soon would enter the Halls of Mandos, what had he actually been thinking back then? Rûsa could almost hear Sauron’s mocking laugher in the back of his head. Putting back the copper-red braid in its bag for safe-keeping, Rûsa started to revive the fire that had almost burned down while he slept. As he bent down, Maedhros caught a look of something around her son’s neck, a simple necklace made of a leather strap with five different-coloured stones, three larger ones and two smaller ones before the larger ones.

“What does the different colours on the stones mean?” Maedhros asked in a faint voice, having seen other Avari Elves wearing similar necklaces before and was a little bit surprised to see her son wearing one as well.

“My necklace stones? It is a way to keep a eye on our ages and showing others exactly how old we are. Those three larger stones are symbols for different numbers, the black one for one hundred to one thousand, the grey one for ten to one hundred and the white for the number one to ten. The engraved symbols on these that I have, count together 587 years, the two ones adding the final two years before the “Sun” showed up…”

But Maedhros already knew the answer on what he meant, and the mere thought of it caused her to feel like her heart was being torn out of her body out of guilt and sadness. She had given birth to him almost exactly a year after her capture, the 1498th Year of the Two Trees. While Maedhros never would call Rûsa a child who never should have been born, not when she knew that neither herself or his father had planned to have a child together, it did not mean that Maedhros still wished that Rûsa could have been born in a better way, in a family that was not broken apart over the years.

“My boy….my poor child…”

 

Suddenly Rûsa quickly stood up, standing still with his hand on the dagger as he listened after a sound. His black eyes searching for whatever it was, that had made that noise.

“What is it…?” Maedhros asked in worry, trying to sit up but fell back as her back protested against her movement. Rûsa held up a hand to make her remain still, even if he was not close enough to touch her.

“I heard something outside the cave. Stay here, I do not think you should move from here yet.”

Even if Maedhros had not taken off her back brace, she felt too weak to move anyway. In this weakened state, she would not have a chance to escape from Rûsa even if she had been armed.

“Be careful…”

But Rûsa were already outside, quick and silent like a feral cat. A part of Maedhros felt empty at seeing him gone. Were this similar to how her own mother Nerdanel had felt when her husband had brought all their seven children with him to Middle-earth? Trying to at least sit up, she looked around in the cave. Rûsa had not bothered to bind her, not after seeing that she was Fading and was very weak.

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Rûsa had not gone too far away from the cave. Hiding himself behind a rock, he watched the horse rider not too far away. But it was something odd about the rider, especially the black clothes. Last time he had checked, with some help from newly arrived slaves in Angband, black clothing was normally only something Elves wore in mourning.

“Strange, I get a uneasy feeling about that…?!”

In the next moment, a loud scream was heard in the air. A female voice, screaming for help and calling someone’s name. And what really made Rûsa temporarily petrified in fear, was that he knew that kind of screams. That of a female being attacked.

“NO, NO, NO, LET GO OF ME!! I DON’T WANT TO CONCEIVE, I DON’T WANT TO CONCEIVE!!! NOOOOOO!!! MAAAAAGLOR!!!”

“No! Don’t tell me that she is being…”

But he was stopped from leaving, when the black-dressed horse rider came towards him with a sword ready to kill. Rûsa managed to block the hit, cursing loudly in the mixed languages spoken in Angband. He had never liked to be at a disadvantage where the opponent was sitting on horseback while he was on the ground, like how. However, he had learnt a few tricks to knock off the opponent from the mount.

“I have to hurry back to her, before it is too late!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

“No, no, no! Let go of me, let go!!”

Maedhros had been attacked in the cave, but not by Orcs or other kinds of evil beings from Morgoth’s service. No, this was a group of surviving Elves from Doriath, who wished to get revenge for the destruction of their homeland. Weak as she was right now, especially as her right arm had been pulled behind her back so a wave of pain went thought her right shoulder, Maedhros barely had the strength of getting free from their rough holds. One of the male Elves took a choking hold around her neck as he hissed:

“Where did you hide the bodies of prince Eluréd and prince Elurín after the Kinslaying back in Doriath, kinslayer?!”

Maedhros tried to breathe, feeling light-headed from the lack of air. Her inability to save the two young twin princes in time from death was one of her life's biggest failures, having arrived far too late to stop them from entering the Halls of Mandos by freezing to death in the winter cold. Maedhros had arrived in the twins' last moments of life, crying in despair as she had cradling them in her arms and trying to at least let them know that they were not alone, to give them some final warmth in life.   

“They…were already almost…gone…the winter cold outside…I came…too late…to save…them…”

The choking hold on her neck brought up other, very unpleasant memories in her mind as Maedhros tried to breathe. She could feel the choking hold of a collar bound very tight around her neck, and in her mind it was not Elvish hands that forced her down on her back, it was big and clawed Orc hands.

“You lie! Three of your damned brothers King Dior took with him in death, but many saw Celegorm’s servants run out in the forest with the twin princes! You only went after them because you wanted to ensure that the boys really was killed!”

Unable to stop herself, Maedhros began to tremble in fear when she felt one of the Doriath Elves forcing himself above her own body with his weight, pressing her down to the stone ground as her arms and legs were held by the other three Elves to keep her still, the position bringing back unwanted memories of the time she had been taken by the Avari Elf to beget Rûsa.

“No…please no….please, please, no…”

Finally, the dark memories became too much, the cave changed into one of the dark cells of Angband in her mind and Maedhros screamed in terror:

“NO, NO, NO, LET GO OF ME!! I DON’T WANT TO CONCEIVE, I DON’T WANT TO CONCEIVE!!! NOOOOOO!!! MAAAAAGLOR!!!”  

She wanted this to be a nightmare, a horrible nightmare where her brother’s soft singing would end this horror that haunted her at night. Her screams had shocked the former Doriath Elves, but it had also given a furious Rûsa a chance to attack them without being noticed at first. Releasing one his feared war cries, Rûsa threw himself on the two Elves that had released Maedhros' legs at hearing him.

 

“What….agh!”

“The Warg Rider!”

The choking hold around her neck vanished as Rûsa attacked. Gasping for breath, Maedhros quickly picked up a small stone in her left fist and hit her attacker in the face with it. Granted, it was not a very strong hit thanks to her weakened strength, but it still did a good job of getting him off her.

“Ow!”

Rolling over to her side, Maedhros saw in horror how Rûsa was like a savage animal in his attack on the four former Doriath Elves. Sure, she had seen some of his behaviour in battle on the battlefields, but it was a completely different thing to see it up close. The violence reminded her about what she had been in Angband, of the torture she had been a victim off while carrying him.

“No… stop it, Rûsa! Stop it, there is no need of killing them, they did not do anything with me!”

Bringing up her last strength, Maedhros threw herself around her son’s waist, taking hold of his closed hand with the dagger as she pleaded:  

“Rûsa!”  

Something in Rûsa’s mind seemed to suddenly stop at hearing Maedhros' voice. He froze in a movement, just as Maedhros was stopping his dagger from entering into the throat on one of the Doriath Elves.

“Please…don’t kill them…please…lets just…lets just leave…lets just leave this place, please…they really did not do anything with me…”

Maedhros' body scent helped Rûsa to calm down a bit, and with a warning snarl to the injured Elves, he carefully picked up Maedhros in his arms and hurried out from the cave with her.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Rûsa did not stop running until that they were close to a pit with lava. There, he set Maedhros down on the dry ground, checking on her neck where it already had started to form purple handprints around her throat.

“Can you breathe well?”

“No…it hurts…”

Looking around, Rûsa saw a small bush with some black berries that he recognized. Few were the herbs and bushes to grow in Angband’s black place, but it was still a tiny amount that could. And these black berries was a minor gold mine for basic first-aid among the slaves in Angband, the juice helping to reducing swelling and the fruit meat offering food even if it was very little to eat. Picking ten berries and leaving the remaining few so it could still grow bigger in time, Rûsa knelt beside Maedhros.

“Be still, I will use this berry juice to reducing those purple handprints on you…it will string for a few moments, but it will lessen the pain quickly.”

Neither of them saw the shadow behind them, before it was almost too late. Only by jumping away from each others, did Maedhros and Rûsa avoid to be hit by the spear. But in the following moment, as he landed in a kneeling position to see where the attacker was, a sword did stab Rûsa straight through his chest from behind. And a similar wound showed up on Maedhros' chest as well.

“My heart…!”

In that very moment, feeling that pain in her heart, Maedhros did remember something Morgoth had said to her just before she had been taken away to conceive Rûsa:

“ _Thanks to Sauron’s magic, your life will now be connected to that of your soon-to-be created child. When that brat dies, so will you, in the same manner._ ”

 

“So one of the old rumours about your time in Angband was right after all, lady Maedhros. That you indeed had given birth to a half-Avari son some years before being saved by that cousin of yours. It seems like some dark magic have bound you two to each others all those years.”

It was the black-clothed rider from the before, who had stabbed Rûsa from behind. As her son collapsed to the ground, still in shock over how careless he had been, Maedhros whispered:

“W-who…are you?”

The Elf slowly removed his hood, revealing a face that Maedhros only had seen one or two times on her few visits to Doriath but clearly remembered.

“Daeron!”

The former ministel of Doriath bent down and picked up the small leather bag with the Silmaril that Rûsa unknowingly had stolen from Earendil earlier.      

“Yes. Long have I been in deep grief over the death of princess Luthien. Were it not for those cursed gemstones that your father had created, lady Maedhros, darkness would never have fallen over Doriath. This Silmaril was king Thingol’s requested bride price for Luthien to Beren, and her legacy to her descendants. As princess Elwing is away in Valinor right now, I believe that this should go to her own twin sons, the young ones that you helped your dear brother to foster.”

As he spoke, Daeron lifted his sword above Maedhros, the tip laying at the base of her throat. It would only need one single stab to end her life.

“Now, I will free Middle-earth from one of the last two remaining children of Fëanor, so it will be one kinslayer less. Your last living brother and your only nephew will soon be here, so it is only fitting that the last four members in the House of Feanor dies in the same place…”  

But Daeron was too careless in believing that only Maedhros were still alive. Even at the brink of death, Rûsa still had one last card in the coat sleeve. He regretted deeply that he had to sacrifice his mother’s braid for the task, but he did not have any other weapons left. Seeing her son crawling over the ground, dragging himself closer, Maedhros tried to keep Dearon focused on her by saying:

“Maglor and Celebrimbor are far too great warriors for you to be slain in a moment of surprise. And if only Thingol had sent the Silmaril to us right after Luthien’s wedding to Beren or if their son Dior had given us the Silmaril after his parents' deaths, the Second Kinslaying would never have happened!”  

Rûsa took his chance. Using the long braid with Maedhros old hair as a rope, one of Daeron’s feet were caught and he lost his balance. Still holding the Silmaril in one hand while dropping his sword, Daeron tripped over the edge of the lava pit as Rûsa let go of the braid and Daeron fell screaming down to his own death.

 

Maedhros tried to give Rûsa a proud smile, but found that her blood loss was becoming too much for that. Yet, in that stubbornness that was one of the family's principal and infamous properties, she began too pull herself closer to where her son now laid on his side, slowly losing his life. Itch by itch, Maedhros came closer. And it did hurt her mother instincts to see that Rûsa was crying. No doubt that he must be terrified, if they both were dying.

“My poor, damaged son…what have they told you about the Afterlife for us Elves? What kind of lies has been whispered in your ears all your life…”  

With her last strength, Maedhros managed to pull Rûsa into her arms. It seemed like her presence and body scent helped him to stop trembling in fear for death. Then, in a almost unheard gasp, sounding more like a faint breath, Rûsa whispered:

“Mother?”

Not a adult’s voice, this were the voice of a lost child who desperately had looked for his mother all his life deep inside his heart. As their eyes met, grey and black, Maedhros realized that Rûsa must have remembered his very first memory after birth, where she held him against her just like this.

“Sch, my son…I am here, Mother is here now…I won’t let anyone take us from each other again…”

As in a mist, faint and indistinct, she could hear her brother and nephew shouting her name, alongside the sound of horse hoofs against dry ground. But Maedhros refused to go to the Halls of Mandos without Rûsa. Hearing her son’s last exhalation before his body went limp in her arms, Maedhros was able to break her soul free from her body as she finally was able to answer the call of Mandos after being denied that for 589 years thanks to Sauron’s Dark Magic of connecting the spirit of life between mother and son.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: No, Maedhros was NOT about to be sexual assaulted by the four Doriath Elves, but their behaviour trigged a flashback of how she got pregnant with Rûsa in Angband. I have researched and similar events can indeed trigger up memories of such acts. Thanks for reading this.


	7. In the Halls of Mandos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa and Maedhros enters the Halls of Mandos after being killed, and their healing starts...

Lord Námo was patiently awaiting new arrivals into his Halls. He had a feeling that the coming new _fëar_ was going to be some rather important ones, so he hoped that they soon would come. A bit away from his throne of black marble, Eluréd and Elurín were happily playing skipping rope with a long ball of yarn they had gotten their hands on, using one of the nearby marble pillars to tie it around.

“One, two, three! What is up in the tree?”

“A cat and a sister wee!”

At the last word spoken by Elurín in a jump, Maeglin carefully looked up from behind another pillar where she was checking on a hammer for forging.

“ _Boys, could you two stop playing for a few minutes and hide behind that pillar? The same for you, Maeglin. The presence of you three might confuse the new arrivals_.”

As it was a request, not a command, and it would only have to be for a few minutes, they obeyed the Vala’s words.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Soon the first new soul arrived. From the way it still smoked around him, he had died in some way related to fire.

“ _I have long wondered when you would arrive into my Halls, master ministel Daeron of Doriath. If it is your beloved princess you seek, then you might already know that Luthien is not here. With her beloved Beren she is, and the Allfather has not allowed me to tell what the Fate of Men truly are. But your king Thingol and his grandson Dior’s family are all here, small consolation in your own sorrow as it is. Now, let me see the manner of your passing._ ”

Námo were not cruel, but he wanted to know the exact manner of each new arrival’s death so he knew how they could be healed in his Halls. The marble floor under Daeron started to glow, showing what had happened in his last moments of life. When Maeglin, who peeked out from behind the pillar to see better, saw who it was that Daeron had stabbed to death, her already pale face went all while in shock.

“That’s…!”

Eluréd and Elurín had a similar reaction, both having a very faint memory of Maedhros trying to warm them up even in their last moments of life. Finally, the last image vanished from the floor and Námo looked at Daeron with a frown.

“My Lord, I know that Kinslaying is forbidden, but with everything that the Oath of Fëanor has caused for Middle-earth, were it not better to have all Fëanor’s children here in the Halls…”

“ _Spare me your excuses for your deed of slaying Rûsa Maedhrosion and Maedhros Fëanoriel. And I would be quick to run away and hide somewhere if I were you. The young lady right behind you happens to be Rûsa’s_ _spouse, unholy way to get married to each other or not._ ”

“His…spouse…?!

Looking over his shoulder, Daeron saw in fear that Námo were right. If looks could kill, he would already be dead several times over. And there was no mistake in the way she held her forge hammer as a weapon.

“You…!!”

With a weak yelp of terror, Dearon hurried away into the Halls, quickly followed by Maeglin who tried to hit him with her hammer. And since Eluréd and Elurín did not like people who spoke badly about Maedhros' attempt to save their lives, they were not too far behind Maeglin. 

“Stand still so I can give back the pain you gave Rûsa and lady Maedhros in killing him!!”

“Want us to tie him up for you with the ball of yarn, lady Maeglin?” called one of the young twins out loudly as all four vanished into the deeper parts of the Halls, leaving Námo alone on his throne.

“ _And people claim that my Halls of the Dead are a dull place?_ ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Naturally, the sight of the furious Maeglin chasing Daeron with her forge hammer ready to hit him, and with Eluréd and Elurín trying to help her, did bring attention from other dead Elves. Especially as Thingol and Finwë had been interrupted in their conversations.  

“What are my own great-grandsons and your great-granddaughter doing with poor Daeron?!” Thingol wondered in surprise as his former minstrel tried to take cover behind Beleg, while some of the former Lords of Gondolin tried to take the forge hammer from Maeglin before she did hurt someone by mistake. In the background behind the two kings, Celegorm called out:

“Aredhel, I think your already bad-tempered lass has finally snapped for some reason!”

“Bad-tempered?! And that comes from someone who has “Hasty raiser” as a mother-name!” answered Aredhel as she went to get her daughter back.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

With that chaos between the dead Elves going on in the deeper Halls, Námo focused on the two new souls that just had arrived. Getting up from the throne and holding out his hands, he gently caught Maedhros and Rûsa.

“ _Another set of Elves whose lives ended together thanks to being connected in that way by Sauron…_ ”

Speaking soft words of comfort to the two souls in his hands to have them remain calm, Námo brought them to another part of his Halls for healing.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Námo entered the part of the Halls meant to heal those Elves that had been enslaved by Morgoth. It was darker in here than in the other Halls, a reflection of the souls' deep trauma from their lives in Angband.

“ _This forced connection between their lives was very strong. It will be hard to remove the remaining pieces._ ”

He was referring to the two black spots on Maedhros and Rûsa’s souls, where their hearts had been in life. The grey-robed Maia, who was tending to the souls in this chamber, moved aside so Námo could lay the two new souls in a pool with turquoise-green healing water. Knowing that Maedhros had been forced to carry that connection the longest time of the mother and son duo, Námo started with her. But even with the most gentle and careful handle in removing the last of the magical connection and she knew that neither Námo or his Maiar meant her any harm, Maedhros screamed in pain. The removal of the connection brought up memories of her tortures in Angband. Even in the enchanted sleep that he had been put into in order to not cause a scene, Rûsa still made a reaction on hearing his mother’s painful crying.     

“ _Damn that Morgoth, why did he have to_ _corrupt the powerful Mairon of all the Maiar…_ ” muttered Námo lowly to himself as he finished on Maedhros and made himself ready to free Rûsa from the magical connection as well. Like his mother, Rûsa reacted badly on getting free from the Dark Magic that Sauron had used.

“ _Hold him still!_ ” said one of the Maiar when Rûsa reacted on instinct and tried to attack the one who caused him harm. Finally, both mother and son were freed from the remains of Sauron’s magic.

“ _Now, let them rest. Their different traumas and scars from life goes very deep. They will need a long time of healing, I shall personally try to ensure that both mother and son are being left alone for a time. Neither Maedhros or_ _Rûsa are ready emotionally to meet someone in the family yet.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, Maeglin was currently sitting and sulking in a corner of her father’s forge. With that angry facial expression, there was no doubt that she was Eöl’s offspring.

“Exactly what is it, that makes her so tense today, Aredhel? Clearly it must be a serious matter, for our daughter to act like this?” wondered Eöl without looking up from his anvil, where he was re-shaping the now rather dented forge hammer that his wife had brought along with their daughter.

“Well…”

Aredhel was a little unsure how to answer on her husband’s question, as Maeglin’s angry glare warned her from telling. Noting his daughter’s look as well, Eöl sighed deeply as he pushed away some stray hairs from his black-coloured hair. The relationship between him and Aredhel had slowly became better since their deaths, being free from the ensnaring and creepy magic of Nan Elmoth. While they still was far away from being a model couple of a good marriage, they had come a long way from the relationship they had right before Aredhel and Maeglin had fleed from Nan Elmoth to Gondolin. And as Aredhel herself had said, in a sense Nan Elmoth _had_ been like a protective womb to Maeglin, where the whole family was safe from the dangers of the outside world. But it had slowly became a prison for all three of them with time, the turning point being that fateful evening when the 80-year-old Maeglin, in a youth’s classical wish to leave the safely of a childhood home, had revealed her fateful wish to explore the world outside Nan Elmoth.

“I will say it in six words only, Ada: The killer of my so-called husband.”

“What?!”  

The shock over her words, caused Eöl to slip in his working pace and the almost re-forged hammer ended up flipping up in the air over Aredhel’s head before it landed in the forge fire. Quickly grabbing a tong to save the hammer out of the fire, Eöl said:

“And exactly how, would that happen, daughter? I know that the other former enslaved Elves has told us about you and Rûsa were forced into your relationship by Morgoth, but as he is the infamous Warg Rider, I have a serious doubt that he would allow himself to be killed so easy.”

“Daeron of Doriath did the deed,” answered Aredhel in Maeglin’s stead, as Maeglin herself became silent in fury right more.

“That skinny, love-stuck minstrel at Thingol’s court? Hmf, he must have picked up the skills with a sword for survival then after leaving the kingdom then, unless he wanted to die at the hands of a pack of Orcs or wolves.”

And with that, Eöl finished his part in the conversation. He refused to discuss Rûsa unless Maeglin felt ready to talk about him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT WE CAN’T SEE HER?!”

“Son, don’t yell like that. Let Lord Námo finish speaking first.”

Before Fëanor could protest, Finwë did put his own hand over his oldest son’s mouth to keep him quiet. Around him, some of his other grandchildren did the same with Fëanor’s present sons.

“May we ask why we can’t see Maedhros?” asked Argon politely to the Vala, as he avoided a kick from Curufin, who was being held down to the floor by that Turgon basically had been forced to sit on Curufin to keep him still.  

“ _The scars from her time in Angband are so deep that it is almost surprising that she managed to remain sane until the very end._ ” answered Námo in a calm voice, before he dismissed the royal family. Once they had left, some of them being more dragged out under protests, he could focus on the deeper trauma in mother and son:

“ _As for her son…Rûsa is deeply tainted by all the killings he was forced to do under his life on Morgoth’s orders. The act of Kinslaying rests heavy on his shoulders, as those with pure hearts becomes very traumatic no matter how many times they kill. His life in Angband has also tainted him very emotionally with the lies that Morgoth and Sauron told him, it will be very hard to heal him._ ”

Námo was not very happy over the emotional issues that both Rûsa and Maedhros would need to heal from, those were often the worst and most difficult part of healing here in the Halls. That alone would mean a very long time in the Halls for both mother and son. And then there were some other issues as well, to fix…  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

That she no longer had any pains where she normally expected it to hurt in some way when she awoke, was the first thing that Maedhros noticed. Even as a spirit, it took her some time to feel ready to move. And when she finally managed to open her eyes again, it was to see that she was in a dark room that reminded a lot about the deep forests that Amrod and Amras had loved so much in Middle-earth.

“Where…is this place…?”

Almost like a reaction on that she now was awaken, Maedhros slowly sunk deeper into the pool of healing water. She held no fear of drowning, spirits did not need to breathe anyway. The clear crystal walls in the pool allowed Maedhros to see other, similar pools around the large chamber, all holding other Elvish _fëar_ in them. Were her father, brothers, uncle and that minor horde of cousins here as well, maybe?

“I want to see them…after so long…”

Sadly, Maedhros did not see anyone of her dead relatives here. For how could she know that they were in the deeper parts of the Halls, and that this chamber were meant for those who had suffered as slaves in Angband? Even if Maedhros had not been a slave in the underground mines there, she still had suffered thought torture and being forced into the life of a breeding slave, even if she had only given birth once.

“I am not even sure if I want Atar to know about Rûsa…”

For a short moment, the memories of Feanor’s wrathful face when he was in his most furious moments were enough to bring up a flash of horrible fear in Maedhros. How would her father react on learning about this unknown grandson of his, born and raised in Morgoth’s service, with his far too well-known hate of Morgoth?

“No! I won’t let them hurt him, not my son!”

Maedhros' mother instincts had always been strong, how could they not be after six younger brothers and a small horde of younger cousins as well during her young life in Aman, and then being a mix of surrogate mother and foster aunt to the young Elrond and Elros when they were fostered by Maglor?

“ _Nelyo? Can you hear me? If you do, please come lower down._ ”

It was a gentle and soft voice that spoke, a soothing one which Maedhros did not know. Yet she allowed herself to sink even deeper in the pool, very close to the bottom where a person stood. That silver hair, along with that noble air around her, could only be one person. Míriel Þerindë, her paternal grandmother, the first wife and queen to Finwë.

“Grandmother?”

“ _Yes, my sweet granddaughter. It is me. And yes, this is indeed the Halls of Mandos. You are in a chamber meant for healing those who has been enslaved in Angband._ ”

Of course, Maedhros realized, of course she would need to be here first in this chamber, with what had happened to her and what had led to Rûsa’s birth. She was the only one in the large family who had been a captive in Angband, so naturally she was the only one here apart from her own son. Said son, who currently still were in that deep sleep for healing, a bit above herself.

“Where…is my father? Have you seen him? My brothers? Uncle Fingolfin? My cousins?”

It was only natural that Maedhros wanted to know about her family, that could Miriel understand very well.

“ _No need of feeling such worry, Nelyo. Apart from Finrod, everyone is still here. You will see them when you feels ready._ ”

In truth, Maedhros seriously doubted that she ever would be able to face her father again. The new fear of Feanor reacting badly about Rûsa, were too strong right now inside her.

“Lady Miriel? May I be allowed to have a few words with your granddaughter? After all, we once met thanks to the Dark Lord.” suddenly a voice spoke behind Miriel. The voice was a male one, the owner dressed in the grey robes all Elvish _fëar_ wore here in the Halls and hid his face from view with the hood of his robe. Yet, as he slowly removed the hood away to reveal himself, Maedhros gasped in surprise at seeing he was.

“You are…Taurion?!”

Indeed it could only be Taurion, the Avari Elf who was Rûsa’s father, with that heterochromia consisting of one black right eye and one blind left eye that once had been green but had became white in blindness because of the huge scar going from his forehead down to his cheek, a reminder of the day when he had been captured by the Orcs of Morgoth.      


	8. Guilt over the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros meets up again with Taurion, Rûsa's father, and memories returns...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a rather brutal mention of killing and suicide

“Taurion?” whispered Maedhros once again in disbelief, trying not to let the shock take hold of her. She would be so disappointed in herself if she let a nervous breakdown happen again. The half-blinded Avari Elf bowed his head in a silent greeting. The last time Maedhros had seen him alive in Angband, Taurion had been looking more dead than alive, his eyes showing almost no life at all and he had been terrible gaunt-looking, almost no more than skin and bone, on top of having several raw wounds from trying to protect her from the Orcs' whips as he had not wanted her to be harmed even before they had begotten Rûsa. Yet now in death, Taurion looked much more healthier after being almost fully healed from his trauma as a breeding slave in Angband and there was no doubt that Rûsa had inherited his father’s darker reddish brown hair and black eyes.     

“Yes, lady Maitimo. It is me. By your lady grandmother’s tapestries, I have been able to follow the events after my death. I…am sorry for the way I killed myself on, but hearing that Sauron had planned for me to beget yet another She-elf with my offspring…I could not take it anymore, not when my legal wife and our two children had been killed at my captive. Being used to impregnate at last 15 different She-elves with my offspring many times and often feeling them die soon after that their final moments in childbirth became too much…”   

“It was not your fault…” Maedhros said in a attempt to not start crying at the memories of their last time together.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Perhaps Eru had heard their prayers to get the deed quickly over and been merciful for once, because Taurion had gotten Maedhros pregnant almost directly after the first forced union of their bodies, both having sensed that very moment as the new soul came into being. Under the following few days, after realizing that he had fathered a new child, Taurion had done his best to protect Maedhros from the Orcs' cruelty._

_“The new breeding female is said to be from a large family…”_

_“She better get heavy with offspring quickly then! She was given to the most fertile breeding male after all!”_

_Years of slavery had taught Taurion to be quick in saving whatever food and water he was given, so when one Orc did thrust two plates of gruel mixed with mushrooms and two bowls of greasy water into the cell by a small opening in the iron bars, Taurion was fast in taking the items into the deeper parts of the cell where the Orc jailers could not steal the food back so easily._

_“Lady Maitimo? Wake up, it is feeding time.”_

_Slowly, Maedhros woke up from her uneasy sleep and rolled over to her other side, showing signs of having cried during her sleep again from the nightmares of Fëanor’s death and the Darkening of Valinor. Bruises and lacerations covered Maedhros' face from her attempts to fight against the Orcs before she had been taken to this cell where Taurion were kept. Taurion could not blame her for looking ill at the smell of the food, he had long learned that a newly-pregnant woman was very hypersensitive to certain scents and there was no doubt that Maedhros likely reacted on either the greasy water or the food._

_“Try breathing with your mouth, it might help for a little while.”_

_Carefully, he did feed Maedhros as a parent would do to a small toddler, using the small pieces of mushrooms to get the gruel in her. But when he only drank one long gulp of his water and offered the remaining water to her after that she had drunk up her own, Maedhros shook on her head in a quiet pleading._

_“No, I can’t take your water…”_

_“I am used to starvation and can survive on this much water in one day until it is time to feed the slave again, you are in far more need of food and water than myself.”_

_Taurion glared down on her belly as he spoke, showing his point. Sighing in defeat, knowing that it was the new life inside her that he meant, Maedhros' hands shook easy as she took his water bowl from his hand and emptied it in two long gulps._

_“And I believe that it is time for a small check-up to see if you two love-birds has managed to conceive.”_

_Both Maedhros and Taurion froze in fear at hearing Sauron’s voice. At the sound of the door being unlocked as Sauron entered the cell, Taurion tried to hide Maedhros behind himself, but a hard tug on the long chain to his collar was enough to force him away from Maedhros. Two Orcs grabbed hold of Taurion, dragging the protesting Avari Elf out from the cell while Sauron towered over the terrified Maedhros in the corner as she tried to hide any signs on that she indeed was carrying a child inside her._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros was not too sure how it had happened, but the very moment after that Sauron had his suspicions about her pregnancy confirmed, the sound of a fight had been heard outside the cell and then the horrible sound of someone dying by getting thrown against a wall with a hit from a cudgel in the head. The sight of Taurion’s bleeding head, and the spear in his chest had haunted her for the rest of her life. 

“Yes…I heard one of the Orcs say something about that I was to be taken to another newly enslaved She-elf. Knowing that it was going to be yet another possible circle of fathering a new child with a unknown She-elf and that I likely would not see her again…no, it became too much. I could not stand the thought of fathering another new child that was not born from my wife…”

Taurion went quiet, and Maedhros knew that she had no right of judge him for indirectly killing himself, not when she had learned from the other enslaved Elves in Angband that she was the future mother of Taurion’s fifteenth child that was not conceived by Taurion’s legal wife. 

“Your wife…is she here, or has she already…”

“Nay, she is still here. Atara said that she wanted to be Reborn at my side, and no, she holds no grudge against you or the other mothers to my baseborn children. She knows that neither one of us wanted the unions to happen, and as she pointed out, holding a grudge for something that was impossible to prevent thanks to the Dark Lord’s sick ideas in using Sauron’s magic on the slaves would just be childish.”

Maedhros was not too sure if she would call a such grudge childish in the same situation, but she felt how weary she had become just from this small talk with Taurion.

“ _Rest, Nelyo, it is only normal for newly-arrived souls to tire easy. Right now, focus on healing yourself._ ”

Miriel’s voice was like a soft lullaby, gentle and calming for a worried soul who had suffered so much pain in life. So it did not take long for Maedhros to slowly allow a sleep of healing to take over her again. Pulling back his hood over his head, Taurion gave Miriel a light bow in farewell, before they left the healing chamber separately after each other.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Knowing that her son and grandsons was very likely to ask if she might have seen Maedhros, Miriel went to the chamber where they was to be found the most. As she entered, they looked up from what they were doing.

“ _Before any of you starts talking, yes, Nelyo is here. She has been placed in the healing chamber. Even if you were allowed to meet her now, I think her reaction sadly would not be a good one. Remember what some of hers and Káno’s dead servants has told us? That Nelyo has suffered thought several nervous breakdowns over the years? I might not be a healer, but I truly believe that my granddaughter’s nervous breakdowns are a result of the trauma of being a prisoner in Angband._ ”

The reminder of Maedhros' fearful behaviour after being saved by Fingon, was a painful one for Fëanor’s five dead sons. They all remembered how their older sister, once a steady rock for them to stay close, had not been able to bear any kind of touch and recoiled in fear of being beaten for even the smallest movement. How Maedhros had shuddered uncontrollably in terror at being touched, her grey eyes filled with fear and quiet pleading to be left alone. But the worst had been Maedhros' fever-affected nightmares in the beginning of her recovery, where she often would end up screaming and begging Fingon to kill her as she thrashed around in bed. If she had not pleaded for death, then she would cry out for Fëanor and Nerdanel.

“If only there had been a way for us to save her long before that…but we _could_ not…she had _ordered_ us to not save her…if something went wrong, she wanted us others to be alive and free…”

Caranthir’s voice broke as he started to cry of bitterness at the memories. Even with her body healed, something in Maedhros had been broken far beyond repair. How often had she not tried in vain to hide her tears at the sight of a young Celebrimbor as he grew, how she often seemed to force herself to turn away her eyes when seeing other Elflings on rare events, the sudden loss of control over herself that she had gotten at the news of Fingon’s wife being pregnant with Gil-galad? The failure of saving Eluréd and Elurín from dying in the winter cold, along with the loss of three brothers on the same time, had nearly caused Maedhros to commit suicide in a mixture of sadness and madness.

“Our sister…our poor sister…”

Fëanor, who had his eyes focused on a tapestry of a crying Maedhros where she held the dead bodies of Dior’s twin sons in her arms, refused to say anything. But from the way his lips was hold in a thin line, and the nearly unseen shaking of his shoulders, betrayed his own grief over what had happened to his only daughter after his death.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Now when she had calmed down from her earlier anger on Daeron for Rûsa’s death, Maeglin tried to think more logical again. Of course, one of her first instincts was to try and find Rûsa in the Chamber of Healing, but another part of her also feared what might happen if she saw him again. They were not in love, that would be a total lie, but only a fool would deny that they had been having a bond thanks to being forced into a union of their bodies.

“People who claim that Rûsa is a monster, can go and throw themselves off a mountain cliff. He never forced me into any sexual intercourse after that single time when he claimed me as his concubine on Morgoth’s order. The closest thing we ever did again was to make it look like he was busy in trying to make me pregnant…”     

Maeglin blushed deeply red at the memory of that event. While she could understand that it had been to hide their plan to let her escape from Angband, she would not have responded with kneeing him in the gut if he had just told her what he was doing. Not that Rûsa had protested too much, he had later agreed on that he had deserved that sudden pain in his stomach when he was unable to explain why he suddenly had kissed Maeglin and pushed her down on his bed like that. On the other hand, Rûsa had always been surprising gentle with her and the memories of that first tender contact in his private chamber after that she had become his concubine…

“No, not the right time to think of that! If the other Lords of Gondolin hears that I might have a crush on someone, husband by force or not, I am never going to hear the end of it!”

The mere thought of what possible kind of gossip people would create about that, especially with her early reputation in Gondolin of not being interested in romance and a possible married life, was enough to make Maeglin shiver in horror.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the healing chamber, Maedhros suddenly awoke at sensing something different in the healing water. Movements, rather violent ones. Looking around, she saw that was Rûsa who was causing the movements. While he clearly was still asleep, only a blind and deaf person would miss that he seemed to be in the middle of a nightmare. As he had been newborn when he was taken from her, the person in his nightmare could only be the enslaved Avari woman who was Rûsa’s only known relationship.  

“No…no…I don’t want…NO!!! Don’t harm her, don’t harm her! Don’t take her there! She will be killed…!! No…MOTHER!!!”  

Feeling her protective instincts awakening at hearing his groans quickly turning into screams of terror, remembering far too well herself how it was to have nightmares about Angband, Maedhros hurried over to her son. Trying to catch him when he was thrashing around was not easy, especially as Rûsa was very physically strong even as a spirit and he was thrashing around very violently.

“Rûsa… Rûsa, please calm down! It is only a nightmare, you are safe now…!”

Maedhros felt horrible, when Rûsa fought to get free from her arms by mistaking her for a possible foe and only wanted the nightmare to end. And it felt like a true stabbing in her heart as her feral son started to cry, unable to wake up from the nightmare that held him in its claws.

“This is not working, the nightmare has a too strong hold…!?”

Before Maedhros could react, her own mind entered Rûsa’s mind by mistake.

 

Darkness with only a few lights from torches. The smell of blood and burnt flesh. Faint gasps of pain, which quickly turns into hoarse screams of agony. Even if Rûsa knew that he was not the one being tortured, not the prisoner chained to the stone wall, he still started to shake in his whole body in terror when he heard the painful screams.

“No…please no…I do not want…I don’t want to do it!”

Suddenly, the whole scene changed, the darkness of the torture chamber vanished to be replaced by a star-filled night sky at a small lake. Crying in shock and utterly confusing over the change around him, Rûsa collapsed down on his knees, his spirit slowly transforming into the shape of a small child. Revealing himself to actually be a lonely child, terrible lost both when he was living and now in death, desperately seeking for the mother he had lost right after his birth.

“…I don’t want to be alone… _Mother_ …”

Suddenly, a pair of arms embraced Rûsa’s smaller form, causing him to look up with tear-filled eyes. The sight of Maedhros red hair, and her now fairly familiar body scent, told him who it was.

“I am here now, my boy, I am finally here. Mother won’t leave you alone anymore. I won’t force you to do anything you do not want to do…my son.”

At the two final words, Rûsa openly wept as he buried his face against her. Maedhros held him in her arms the whole time, even long after that Rûsa had cried himself to sleep in sheer exhaustion from all the crying.

 


	9. The curse of a Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fëanor and Maedhros finally meet again since his death, but it is far from a ideal reunion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a bit of mature scenes here

“ _Maedhros? Please come up from the healing water, I want to take you to another chamber temporarily. As much as I hate to do it, you need to face your own deepest traumas if you ever will be able to heal and be Reborn,_ ” spoke Námo as he dropped his hand into the pool and picked up the soul of the only Fëanorian princess from the healing water.

“But Rûsa…” started Maedhros in slight worry, trying to turn around to see her son better from her place in the Vala’s open palm. Námo hid a smile, pleased to see that Maedhros was the kind of parent who would not turn away her offspring just for having been a servant of Morgoth during his life. Rûsa would need his mother’s support at his Rebirth, as it would be impossible to hide his former identity as the Warg Rider forever.

“ _He will be able to stand a few hours without you, as he is sleeping peacefully at the moment. If something happens, my Maiar will get you right away._ ”

Maedhros frowned in suspicion, but let the Vala carry her out from the healing chamber after giving her sleeping son a worrying look over her shoulder.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Námo took Maedhros to a new Hall, that was different from the other chambers in his Halls. This Hall contained a gigantic tree, that you could not see the top of, so tall was the tree. Calming scents of herbs came from the water pool around the small island where the tree was standing on.

“What kind of…chamber is this?”

“ _A special Hall of Memories. Here every new arrival in my Halls has to face their deepest traumas in order to heal and be able to be Reborn. It is now your turn._ ”

Maedhros froze in fear for a moment at his words, but then tried to push it back down. Lord Námo was right, she had to stop running from her trauma one day and that time had came now.

“Lets start, then.”

Námo laid down Maedhros among the tree roots, so she laid conveniently on a bed of fresh spring grass.

“ _Close your eyes, and let it came. There is no need for the events to be in order, but the deepest ones of your trauma will no doubt be the hardest ones for you to face._ ”

Gulping nervously, Maedhros did as she was told.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa actually enjoyed the calm and quiet in his healing sleep. Sure, it had been a bit unnerving at first, used as he was to the never-ending noise of Angband. But as he started to relax, he had started to enjoy the silence.

“How long are you planning to keep on sleeping, you silly Elf?”

That voice…

A female one, not the voice of his mother, rather it was one voice that he had not heard since the Fall of Gondolin. As the healing sleep usually involved closed eyes because of how deep it could be from person to person, Rûsa opened one eye to see who it was that spoke to him.   

“Lómiel?”

Maeglin simply raised a eyebrow at Rûsa as greeting, knowing herself how it felt to wake up from the first healing sleep here in the Halls. Rubbing his eyes out of habit when he woke up, Rûsa asked in a faint voice:

“Why are you here? Surely you would not rather avoid the Elf you were forced to become a concubine to?”

“Just because it was a forced body union, does not mean that I would just leave you, silly.”

Then as he awoke properly, Rûsa suddenly realized that Maeglin had seen his face without the iron mask and quickly tried to cover the V-shaped scar on the left side of his jaw with a hand. While he was proud of the how the scars was a proof of him being a survivor, that V-shaped scar was a constant reminder of how close he had came to dying in the battle known in history as Dagor Aglareb back in FA 60. Rûsa could still remember how he barely had been able to avoid the swords held by Finrod and Caranthir, earning the V-shaped scar on his face instead of getting beheaded.

 

“If you fear that your scars are repugnant in my eyes, then the answer is no. I saw Orcs in Angband who looked far worse than what you do. Can you try and sit up?”

Rûsa slowly started to sit up, before he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest and back where Daeron had stabbed him to death. The pain was so unexpected, that Rûsa had to bite back a scream of agony as he fell forwards and Maeglin had to catch him.

“What happened?!”

“M…m-my chest and back…w-where I was stabbed…! No! Don’t…!”

Too late, Maeglin was already trying to get his shirt off him. A small wrestling match between them followed, and it was only because he still was so new in his arrival into the Halls along with the pain that Rûsa lost to Maeglin. As she had been in the Halls for a longer time and had already healed from the way she had died on, Maeglin was stronger right now.

“You damned little…!”

“Watch your mouth, this is not Angband! If you are embarrassed about me seeing you without clothes, so did we share your bed even if we never did that kind of stuff that happens in bed between a married couple!”     

But Maeglin stopped at seeing why Rûsa had not wanted her to take of his shirt. Sure, the now half-closed wounds from his death were still there, but removing his shirt had also revealed the layers upon layers of scars that covered Rûsa’s upper body. Many of the scars was very deep ones, scars that had not covered Rûsa back in FA 509, during the short month that they had spent together before Maeglin had escaped from Angband with his help.

“Morgoth was not too…pleased at learning that I covered your escape. Worst punishment I ever has gotten in my life. The lashing and torture would likely have killed me, had not Morgoth wanted me to re-capture you at the fall of the Hidden City as an extra part of the punishment. Thanks to those new scars, I lost whatever little feeling I still had on my upper body. But I think it was worth the pain to know that you were free from the horrors in Angband, even if it was for only nine more months…hey!”

All suddenly, Maeglin pushed Rûsa down on his back. First Rûsa was about to protest, when he saw that Maeglin actually was crying from where she was above him.  

“You damn _idiot_ …”

And then, to Rûsa’s even bigger confusion, she hugged him. To his credit, however, he did realize that it was because Maeglin felt sorry for him and not because she wanted to cause him more pain.

“I really have much to learn about life outside Angband, right?” wondered Rûsa to himself as he awkwardly tried to get Maeglin off him before the grey-robed Maia in change of the healing chamber came back and misunderstood the situation between Maeglin and Rûsa.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Námo had brought Fëanor to the Hall of Memories to have him enter Maedhros' memories.

“For the last time, Námo: are you _really_ sure about this?”

As the Oath was one of the main reasons to Maedhros' suffering in life, Maedhros needed to clean things up with her father. And if Fëanor had something to say about this, so was he actually afraid, far more afraid than what he had been when he did the same thing with his five dead sons to help them heal. Why, one might wonder? Well, most of Fëanor’s fear was based on the fact that Maedhros had been a prisoner in Angband and seeing the damage it must have done on her, would really hit in what his own foolishness had caused to his only daughter.

“ _Yes, I am absolutely sure. Now, get inside her memories and get this whole deal over! The sooner this is dealt with, the sooner your girl is able to heal from her traumas brought by that good-for-nothing Oath of yours!_ ”

To show that he meant serious business, Námo actually shoved Fëanor into the water pool around the tree roots where Maedhros was resting. Fëanor’s angry yell in protest was cut off as he went under the surface. Knowing that it likely was going to take a long time for Fëanor and Maedhros to fix the first step, Námo left to fix some other work during the wait.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The first thing that Fëanor noticed as he landed on a hard surface, was the total lack of light around him. Knowing from his previous experience of this with his sons, Fëanor knew that he had to be careful. Being attacked by the mental symbols of his children’s trauma was never pleasant and he had no wish of a repeat of the very first time he had entered one of his children’s memories. 

“While I had heard that Celegorm had become almost feral during his last years alive, no one could really have made me ready for that…”

Neither Caranthir or Curufin had been any easier, not to mention Amrod and Amras when they had arrived after the Third Kinslaying. However, seeing that they were messed up partly because of him, Fëanor had tried to help his dead sons the best he could.

“Nelyo? Where are you?”

Fëanor had barely called out for his daughter, when the surrounding changed around him. What he ended up seeing, sent a bolt of terror and regret in Fëanor’s body:

The night where the Oath had been sworn. So many Elves gathered in the beneath the tower of the Mindon Eldaliéva in the Great Square of Tirion, many holding torches, lamps and candles to get some form of light. The serious faces of his seven children where they stood behind him, his own voice who repeated the lies that the Enemy had whispered in his ear. Then, the sounds of swords being drawn and a Oath, never meant to even have been spoken if they had known what horrors laid ahead of them, was spoken:

“ _Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean_

_Brood of Morgoth or bright Vala,_

_Elda_ _or Maia or Aftercomer,_

_Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,_

_Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,_

_Dread nor danger, not Doom itself_

_Shall defend him from Fëanáro, and Fëanáro’s kin,_

_Whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,_

_Finding keepeth or afar casteth_

_A Silmaril. This swear we all…_

_Death we will deal him ere Day’s ending,_

_Woe unto world’s end! Our word hear thou,_

_Eru Allfather! To the everlasting_

_Darkness doom us if our deed faileth…_

_On the holy mountain hear in witness_

_and our vow remember,_

_Manwë and Varda!_ "

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Fëanor was so focused on the scene, which was the beginning of the end for his children, that he first did not notice the voice behind him:

“We should never have sworn that Oath, Father…it ended up taking all but one brother from me…" 

It was Maedhros' voice. Fëanor spun around to face his daughter, but regretted it almost immediately. There, dressed in just a torn and patched cloak, sat Maedhros. Her long red hair was hanging loose and unkempt, the grey eyes sunken and barely held any life in them.

“Are you pleased with what you see, Father? Pleased to see what your Oath has done to us, your own children? How it has _ruined_ us, once being the House born from the Crown Prince of the Noldor and how we now are outcasts among our own people?  

As she spoke, Maedhros rose to her feet. The movement revealed some of the huge scars covering her body, the stump where her right hand once had been being held so Fëanor could see it clearly. Touching her ruined right shoulder, the one which was higher than her left shoulder as a result of hanging from her right wrist for so long, Maedhros spoke again. Even with the vocal cords damaged so Maedhros could not speak very loud, so was her voice still a commanding force as she now spoke in a ice-cold voice, without any of the warmth and joy of life she once had held back in Aman:

“Well, _Fëanáro_?

Fëanor felt his insides go cold at hearing his daughter speak like that. Memories of how Maedhros had been in childhood, the proud and beautiful Noldorin princess she once had been before the Oath and the time in Angband had ruined her into a mere shell of who she once had been, flowed in his mind. It seemed like his silence annoyed Maedhros, for she spoke harshly in growing anger: 

“Why are you so silent now, Father? Have your tongue lost its powers here in the Halls? _SAY SOMETHING, FATHER!!_ ”

A uneasy silence filled the empty air around them. Fëanor tried to bear the sight of her, but found himself unable to look at her, fearing her possible reaction on his pity.

 

Suddenly, a tear fell down from Maedhros' eyes. It was if her rage suddenly had left her when Fëanor did not met her eyes. One quiet whisper in despair left Maedhros' trembling lips:

“…or does our suffering not mean anything for you anymore…?”

The sadness in her seemed to transform Maedhros. The cloak fell off her uneven shoulders, revealing her in all the scarred shell of a body she had been having for the whole First Age. As Maedhros collapsed down on her knees while covering her crying face with her left hand, her spirit changed. Fëanor was mute in horror as he watched how her muscular body under all the scars, shaped from a new life as warrior, became thinner as the scars reopened into bleeding wounds and fresh burns. Fetters showed up around Maedhros' wrists and ankles, revealing that she was losing herself into the trauma from Angband.

“Nelyo, I never meant for this to happen…!?”   

Just as Fëanor took a step forwards, he stopped at seeing the terrified, pleading look in Maedhros' wide eyes. But she was not looking at her father anymore. Instead her whole face was frozen in mute horror as she tried to reach out for something behind Fëanor, but the fetters stopped her from moving anymore as Morgoth’s voice was heard:

“ _Seeing that you are a female, I think there is a perfect purpose for you to do here under Sauron’s tender care. Lets see how capable you are at being a breeding female, if your parents have passed down their fertility to yourself. Breeding slaves with the blood of your father…would be a good addition to my future Orcs_.”

In a flash of horror, Fëanor realized what the deeper meaning of the Dark Lord was.

“Nelyo…did you…”

Maedhros met his eyes, then shook pleading on her head as she tried to pull back from him in fear.

“No…don’t look at me, Father, _DON’T LOOK AT ME!_ T-they…Morgoth and Sauron u-used some Dark Magic to make me c-conceive with a enslaved Avari Elf…they t-took him… _THEY TOOK MY SON FROM ME RIGHT AFTER BIRTH!!_ I b-believed that they had k-killed him right a-after birth to torment me…t-they both knew how I f-feels about children from Aman…I am so sorry…I am so sorry…”

Losing control over herself, Maedhros was unable to do anything else than weep and begged for her father’s forgiveness. Fëanor were at a loss in what to do. His poor daughter was far more broken in mind and spirit than what any of her five younger brothers had been. Bending down on one knee, Fëanor carefully took Maedhros' crying face in his hands so their eyes meet.

“Nelyo? Please look at me…no, don’t look away…just…just listen to me, _please_ …”

To hear her ever so prideful father say that single word, the small word _please_ , told Maedhros that he really had been changed by his time in the Halls of Mandos. Gone were the madness she had seen in his eyes after since Morgoth had slain her grandfather Finwë and stolen the Silmarils. Now, all Maedhros saw, was the father she had grown up with, before Morgoth had poisoned his mind with lies and the Silmarils had been created.

“Listen to me, Nelyo. No matter what has happened in the past and what likely will happen in the future, you will always, _always_ be my first-born, my only daughter among those seven children I fathered with your mother. You could not have known what the Oath would cause for you and your brothers after my reckless way of dying. Part of the fault lies with me, I should never have told you seven to fulfil the Oath…”   

“Atar…!” cried Maedhros as she embraced him, the fetters falling off her as she did so, symbolic for how she finally let herself become free from her trauma in Angband.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

However, Fëanor saw that one single chain remained around his daughter’s right wrist, as if a small part of her fears from Angband still remained. He tried to follow it with his eyes, but the end of the chain was hidden in darkness behind Maedhros.

“Nelyo…where is my other grandson? The one who you gave birth to? Did he enter the Halls as a newborn infant because of where he was born? I know that there is a special chamber for infants and small children somewhere in the Halls…”

Maedhros felt the earlier fear about his possible reaction on who Rûsa had served in his life, and she could not answer on Fëanor’s questions. Instead, she just held on him harder, silently begging him to not ask. Lucky for Maedhros, Fëanor was distracted by that his five dead sons suddenly showed up.

“Found them!”

“Atar and Nelyo are over here!”  

“Siiiiiis!”

Realizing that Maedhros' mind still were very delicate and that she might not be ready for a family group hug at the moment, Fëanor turned around and managed to catch the protesting Amrod and Amras in his arms while he caused Celegorm to trip over. As Curufin had been right behind the blonde Fëanorian, he ended up tripping over his brother as well right before Fëanor calmly sat down so he kept Curufin and Celegorm to the ground with his own weight. Only Caranthir managed to avoid getting stopped by Fëanor, and that was because he went in a bigger circle around his father, using a large, half-finished tapestry to cover Maedhros' naked body before he caught her in a hug.

“Moryo…?”

“Yes, it is me. We missed you, sister.”

“If you wonder about the tapestry, big sis Nelyo, so did Moryo grab the closest thing closest to him when Lord Námo suddenly came and brought us to the Hall of Memoires where Atar and yourself already was…ow! Atar, are you trying to strangle us?” said Amrod in a attempt to explain the tapestry as he tried to get out of his father’s headlock.

“All right you five, but no group hug on your sister yet. Remember how it was for yourselves to get free from your trauma of death,” sighed Fëanor, before letting go of the twins as he rose to his feet and letting the other two of his sons to rise up from the ground. Under their father’s watchful eye, Maedhros was given a hug each from her dead brothers. She was happy to see them, but the small bubble of joy was brushed when Celegorm said:

“Why are you still wearing one the chains of trauma, sister?”    


	10. Memories and meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fëanor has now learnt about his younger, unknown grandson, and there are more meetings to be...

“Why are you still wearing one of the chains of trauma, sister?”

In any other case, Maedhros would have welcomed Celegorm’s habit of being so blunt at times, but this was a painful reminder of how he and Curufin sometimes could make a even bigger disaster than Caranthir who was the quickest to anger of all the Fëanorians, and that said a lot.

“And people claim that I tend to mess up things with my ill-chosen words?” said Caranthir directly when his words made Maedhros shudder, glaring at Celegorm while Curufin was quick to cover Celegorm’s mouth with a hand.

“That is for another time, boys. Now, let your sister rest.”

With a powerful order like that from Fëanor, none of his five dead sons could disagree with their father. Maedhros was deeply marked by her time in Angband and would need much rest to heal.

“Yes, Fa…ah! Sister, don’t fall on me!”

As Maedhros collapsed down, Caranthir caught her in his arms.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been about three days after that Fingon saved Maedhros. During those three days, she had been either unconscious or sedated to let her have a sleep of healing to help her recover._

_“The healers says that our sister has gotten a fever as result of Fingon being forced to cut off her hand to free her.”_

_Once Celegorm had said that, an uneasy silence filled Maglor’s tent where the six brothers had gathered for the latest news about their sister._

_“It better not be sepsis, not now when the healers closed the wound on her wrist with a brand, or Maitimo will…”_

_Their old fear that Maedhros had been killed by Morgoth was present in their minds again. Ever since they had learned about her capture by the Orcs, their nightmares had been filled with whatever cruelties she could have been subject to. And remembering how Maedhros had been back in Aman when she now was barely alive, little more than just skin and bones covered in scars, was a mental torture of guilt for them._

_“Don’t…please don’t say that word…not about sis…?!”_

_Suddenly a loud shriek in pure horror was heard among the many tents in the Feanorian camp._

_“NOOOOOO!!”_

_The voice was a female one._

_“That was Nelyo!”_

_“Another one of her nightmares?” wondered Amras as Maglor hurried out. All six rushed over the tent where Maedhros had been placed for healing. As Curufin_ _pulled back the tent flap, they were met with an unexpected scene:_

_Maedhros, with her head being half-shaved on one side as the healers had feared_ _that she might have lice in her unkempt hair, tried her best to get free from the healers despite that she barely had the strength to move. Yet Maedhros still had managed to curl up into a ball from the position she had been laid into, shaking violently in fear while using her left hand to try and protect the remaining red hair that she still had._

_“She woke up when we was about to shave off her remaining hair for medicinal reasons, my lords! It must have trigged a flashback of some kind, because of how she screamed and reacted in terror when she saw us take off some of her hair…” explained one healer nervously, showing the long red tosses that they already had managed to shave off before Maedhros had awaked._

_“Don’t…no…please, don’t…d-don’t shave off m-my h-hair, please…please no…” begged Medhros in a faint and hoarse voice, not seeing that she was already crying. Seeing Maedhros crying like that, when she rarely had cried back in Aman, really hit home the point of that she never would be the same again. Neither one of the six brothers wanted to shave off her hair, but they all knew that it was needed._

_“Leave her to us. Turko, take the other side of the bed, if she reacts and focuses on me, you should be able to cut some of her hair at least…” commanded Curufin finally in a hard voice as he picked up a scissor from one of the pockets in his leather apron and then handed another scissor to Celegorm. Nodding to his other brothers to keep Maedhros still, Curufin tried to not have her see the scissor. As expected, Maedhros began to shake and cry even harder in horror at hearing the scissor cutting off her hair as close to her head that Curufin dared to cut. Fanatic, pleading whimpers and sobs could be heard from Maedhros as Maglor did his best to prevent her from moving her head. Once the task was done, with Maedhros'  hair now cut as short as they had dared to do when she was this terrified, did Curufin lay back the scissor in his pocket._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros slowly woke up at the base of the giant tree, having her head in Fëanor’s lap. Around them, her five dead younger brothers were sitting in a half-circle, each brother doing something with his hands.

“I dreamt about that time when you had to cut my hair after that Fingon saved me. I could not explain it back when, but seeing the healers shaving off my hair…it reminded me of what Morgoth ordered the Orcs to do before…I was chained to Thangorodrim. A small part of me wanted to believe that you would not harm me, but…”

“They shaved off all your hair, sister?!” gasped Curufin in horror, suddenly realizing the real meaning behind Maedhros' terrified reaction on seeing the healers shaving off her hair for the medicinal reasons and why she seemed to have gone into a state of shock after that they had cut off her hair.     

“No way! Your wonderful red hair that makes you such a rare beauty to be seen among the Noldor!?” whispered Amrod and Amras in similar voices as Curufin, both remembering how pretty they always had believed Maedhros to be back when they were Elflings and how they had viewed her to be prettiest princess in all of Aman. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile Rûsa was walking around in the Halls after having a rather heated debate about leaving the healing chamber with the Maia in change. It was not that he wanted to disobey the orders to rest, Rûsa simply was not a person to stay still for very long. Such behaviour was basically suicide, or the invitation to be killed, back in Angband. To avoid being recognized by someone as he walked, Rûsa’s soul had pulled up the hood on his gray robe over his head so his face laid in shadow.  

“Where did Mother go? How big are those Halls really? How many Elves are here actually?”

Given that he had lived in Angband for his whole life, Rûsa could be excused for his lack of knowledge about how free Elves outside Angband lived. Living only to survive for the next day, to one day manage to escape from Morgoth’s control over him and finally be free for real, had been Rûsa’s goal in life for as long as he could remember.

“Survive, fight, never lower your guard, never show your real feelings…”

That had been Rûsa’s way of surviving in Angband, at least until that he had been forced to take Maeglin as his concubine. Things had changed when he had gotten another person to hold out for and protect. As his foster mother had died as another female breeding slave in childbirth when he still was a very young Elfling, it had been a very foreign feeling to Rûsa. But he had done his best to be kind towards Maeglin despite his normally anti-social behaviour and complete lack of experience when it came to relationships. Perhaps Maeglin’s distant relationship with her father Eöl had actually been a help for once, because she had seen how inexperienced Rûsa was with others and she had never complained about it.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Soon Rûsa arrived to a chamber, where a lot of tapestries were hung up on the walls.

“What is this for something? We never had any such things in Angband….what does the images mean?”

While he had seen tapestries in Nargothrond and Gondolin, those had been destroyed very quickly like much other items made of the Elves, for the Orcs hated anything Elf-made that would not be of use in some way for the wars. With an almost childish curiosity, Rûsa followed the images on one tapestry and was in fact very pleased when he recognized Maedhros' red hair in one of the scenes. Perhaps he could found out something more about his mother here?

“One, two, three, four, five, six…well, Sauron did not lie when he said that Mother came from a large family at least. Her younger siblings, likely. But where did she come from? The background does not look like Middle-earth at all, or at least not like what I have seen outside Angband during my life. Maybe I can find it in the other scenes…”

He followed the scenes of Maedhros' life, seeing how the Darkening of Valinor and swearing the Oath of Fëanor changed her whole life. Rûsa felt a pain of fear and pity at seeing the scene where Maedhros was tricked by Morgoth and becoming captured by his Orcs, having no doubt that she was not the only Elf to have been fooled in that way somehow. Much to his own private relief, there was no scene of her captivity in Angband and the next scene was showing how Fingon had saved Maedhros from Thangorodrim. On the other hand, Rûsa was very saddened at not seeing a scene where Maedhros held him as a newborn before he was taken from her.

“ _Seeking for something? You are not the only one to look for a scene that is not seen in the tapestry. Some scenes are private, after all._ ”

Rûsa nearly jumped in scare and reached after a hidden dagger out of habit as he turned around, before he remembered that this was not Angband. It was a silver-haired She-elf who had spoken, standing a bit away where she was adding a new scene into the tapestry, sewing the new scene together with the rest of the tapestry with the use of a needle and thread.

“…yes.” answered Rûsa after a few moments of uncertainty, not sure how to answer her. Miriel smiled calmly at him, knowing already who he was as it was her task to record all the deeds of the House of Finwë in the tapestries. That way, she had been the first one to learn about Rûsa almost directly after that Maedhros had given birth to him. Miriel had indeed recorded that scene, but it was in a much private tapestry that she had waved in whatever free time she got between all the work.

“ _Many lost souls often comes here to this Hall, seeking for a special moment that has happened in Middle-earth since they were killed. Lately, it has been the long-awaited fall of the Enemy. I wish greatly that my hot-blooded son and my grandchildren might be free from these Halls one day. Seeing them here, when they enjoyed the days of life despite everything bad that happened to them, pains me greatly._ ”

Miriel took away her arms from the tapestry and stepped back, revealing that the new scene described the dying moments of Maedhros and Rûsa where she held him in her arms. Holding out a hand, Miriel offered her great-grandson to come with her.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It took Maedhros a much needed strength, and inner fight against the bad memories it brought up, to finally tell her brothers and father the secret she had hidden from them for so long. She told them everything that had happened in Angband, how it had started with her falling in Morgoth’s trap, to her last memory before fainting from the massive pain when Fingon had cut her right hand off. The most difficult part, was to tell them about Rûsa’s begetting, how he had been taken from her after the birth and the horror of finding out that he was the feared Warg Rider in Morgoth’s service. At that point, she broke down in tears, unable to speak anymore.

“Sch, there, there, Nelyo…try and calm down.”

Fëanor held her in his arms, while his sons tried to come with terms in the knowledge that they actually had been hunting their own, unknown nephew several times in life. Several times before the Second Kinslaying, Rûsa had been spotted in their realms while riding on his Warg and had been chased away in fear that he was a spy sent by Morgoth. 

“Just thinking of how often we all came close to harming him…by the Allfather, I feel sick at looking back at all the chasing of him…and how we at nearly killed him….!” mumbled Celegorm while looking at his shaking hands. Learning about how Maedhros' own life had been bound to Rûsa’s life thanks to the dark Magic, was like a nightmare for her brothers, now understanding that if they had managed to kill Rûsa, Maedhros herself would have been slain in the same manner. As such a deed would have made them an even worse set of kinslayers, by indirectly killing their own sister without even knowing about it.

“What are you planning to do now, sister? Knowing how his life likely has been, you surely must understand that he likely will be here in the Halls for a very long time. Sure, we will likely share that fate as well, given the Kinslayings, but with… Rûsa living his whole life in Angband, he has been tainted even deeper than what any of us has been in life…ah, me and my stupid mouth!”

Again it was not Caranthir who messed up things with his poorly chosen words this time, but rather Curufin this time. Maedhros started to weep again, Curufin’s words had brought up her ever-present worries for her son and she nearly rose to her feet to run and find Rûsa, not wanting to be separated from him as they had been all his life.  

“You made sister Nelyo cry _again_!” protested Amras in fury as he and Amrod jumped up from there they had been sitting. Fëanor sighed as the twins started to chase Curufin around the other four present family members.

“Tyelkormo, help me stop these two imps before they catch Atarinkë, as Moryo currently is a little busy with your sister.”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 “This is the scene of my birth?” whispered Rûsa, not really daring to believe what Miriel just had shown him. It was a rather small tapestry, plain-looking beside the large ones out in the Halls. Yet there it was, a red-haired mother holding a small bundle in her thin, scarred arms and her tired face filled with the unmistakable love of a mother overjoyed to see that her child was alive, the change of both surviving the birth only 25% in Angband.

“Yes, only my granddaughter and her own mother has that red hair colour, if you count out two of her brothers. This is your mother.”

Against his own will, Rûsa felt tears in his eyes at finally seeing a proof of that his mother never had left him after birth. Now he knew the truth, and his old hate against Sauron and Morgoth burned hotter than ever. Trying not to strain the tapestry with his tears, Rûsa tenderly touched Maedhros' face in the tapestry.   

 


	11. A new name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa's father is partly revealed, and Maedhros gives a small, yet important gift to her son

By now, Maedhros had calmed down from her fit of crying caused by Curufin’s words. Being supported by Celegorm, who was the closest to her in height, she responded somewhat absent-minded on a few questions that they had to her like how Maglor and Celebrimbor had been the last time she saw them in life.

“Nice to hear that my son is reasonable well at least. I often worried about him after that we had left Nargothrond, hoping that he would not have to suffer for what we did.” said Curufin, his eyes not really looking at something as they walked.

“Well, since he openly disowned you in front of the gates when you were about to leave, I think that was enough proof of that he never had sworn the Oath.” laughed Celegorm, which earned him a smack in the back of his head from Fëanor when he saw Curufin’s reaction.

“This is why Nelyo or Káno needed to keep a eye on us…they were the least likely ones to cause trouble….”

Caranthir walked between the twins and Curufin, not really trusting them to stop being angry yet.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As they walked, some new voices could be heard:

“Try and catch us, Ada!”  

“I believed that we had a agreement on _NOT_ running around in the Halls, you little brats! The Sindarin Elves are already weary of us Avari Elves as it is!”

It was Taurion’s voice, and indeed he turned up around a corner, holding two very young female Elflings by the ears in one hand each while scolding them in clear disappointment over their behaviour.

“Having some trouble with your kids, Taurion?” asked Fëanor in a tone that told Maedhros that he knew Taurion rather well and for a moment, a sense of anxiety was felt in her stomach. She had not told them the name of Rûsa’s father yet, fearing how Fëanor and her brothers might react at meeting Taurion. If they already knew each other, then it would be a very awkward explanation for her. 

“Nothing too troublesome, lord Fëanor, just…ah!”

Seeing Maedhros with them and suddenly realizing that Fëanor likely knew about Rûsa now but not that he was the father, Taurion unconsciously let go of his two children who immediately took the chance to run away.

“Freedom!”   

“Shall we catch them for you?” offered Amrod. Without really waiting for a answer, he and Amras hurried after the two Elflings. Sighing to break the awkward silence, Taurion said:

“Fëanor, can you and I talk in private? There is something…we need to talk about, I could not find a good reason to talk about it earlier.”

“Huh? Sure, Taurion.”

As Fëanor and Taurion left to find somewhere where they could talk without being overheard, Celegorm, Caranthir and Curufin noticed that Maedhros looked worried. In fact, her hand now was trembling while she was helped to sit down on the floor.

“What is wrong, Nelyo? You looks like you are about to faint…are you feeling any phantom pains somewhere? It is not uncommon among new arrivals to the Halls…”   

Maedhros shook on her head, feeling light-headed. As she held her left hand to her brow to bow down her head so she would not feel dizzy, she felt cold sweat on her skin.   

“How…do you five and Atar know Taurion…?”

“Atar first met Taurion here in the Halls a few years after his death, in a way that reminded a lot about what we just saw, with his kids trying to run around outside the camp their family has made here in the Halls. I am not sure how they ended up being friends, but they often talks about things and we have often been sent on babysitting duty to his kids if Atar ever feels that we are getting bit rusty in how to deal with children…hold on! How do you know his name, Nelyo?”

This was it. No way back now. She had to tell them of what her relationship with Taurion back in Angband was. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maedhros said in a thick voice:

“Taurion, he…he is Rûsa’s _father_. He was the enslaved Avari Elf who I conceived Rûsa with.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa awoke at the faint knocking, the sounds revealing it to be one of the enslaved Elves. Carefully moving away from Maeglin so he did not awaken her or touched her so she would feel pain from her half-healed injures caused by the torture to make her reveal where Gondolin were hidden, he sat up. It did not take long for him to fasten the iron mask on his head so his face was hidden._

_“Yes?”_

_He knew this male Elf-slave by face but not by name as the custom was among the slaves, he was one of them who used to come here the most to his private chamber. The male Elf handed him a small bundle made of rags._

_“Lord Rûsa, I brought more bandages and black berries for healing for your concubine. I am sorry for being a bit late, the Orcs was causing trouble for the working slaves in the lower pits…”_

_“As long as one of you manage to come here, it is all right. Wait a moment, you shall bring something with you back.”_

_Putting the bundle on the bed, Rûsa took out a small package with something really rare in Angband:_

_Fresh fruits, apples and pears that yet had not started to rot and become inedible. He had picked them in secret out in the mountains the very day before Maeglin had become his concubine._

_“Bring this to the breeding cells. The female Elves who either is pregnant or nursing their surviving young, they needs this kind of food the most even if I would gladly share this food with more of you others.”_

_“It is all right, lord Rûsa. You are always too gentle with us other slaves. Never a harsh word, never more than a sharp remind if something goes wrong.”_

_Rûsa sighed, glaring over his shoulder towards the bed where Maeglin still slept an uneasy sleep._

_“It is the only thing I can do. Even if I am a War Leader now after a long way of proving myself in battle, I am still nothing more than a slave behind that fancy title. I holds little doubt that the Dark Lord and Sauron forced me to take a concubine to use her well-being as blackmail against me. No doubt that they will try and force me to impregnate her sooner or later, Sauron has said many times that the Dark Lord is…displeased with the fact that I refuse to become a breeding male and father more Elf-slaves born here in Angband. But I will not do that, I will not share the fate of my unknown father and my birth mother…”_

_The other Elf nodded, then quietly slipped away into the shadows with the package held protective in his thin arms. Turning back into his chamber, Rûsa took off his iron mask before bending over Maeglin’s sleeping form. Looking over her injures, he was not pleased to see that her arms were swollen under the bandages._

_“Good thing that he brought the black berries, I need to tend to her half-closed wounds with the berry juice…one single infection in one of the wounds and her life will be in danger.”_

_Rûsa hoped that the swellings were not caused by a infection. He had seen far too many slaves lose their lives in a slow, protracted death because of this very reason. The guard Orcs might make the bleeding wounds stop with their stinging ointments, but otherwise the slaves injuries were not treated much unless it was some really big wounds that might cause the slave to bleed to death if it was not treated. Maeglin stirred a bit when he started to take off the bandage from one of her arms, but did not awaken._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

He had met Maeglin again soon after leaving Miriel. Much to Rûsa’s private confusion, she had dragged him along to yet another part of the endless Halls. This time the end location turned out to be a large bathing complex, with hot springs and other places for bathing. While the Elvish _fëar_ did not need washing like a body, the mental reactions to a fresh bath could do wonders for a lost spirit.

“Come down in the water, Rûsa, there is nothing wrong with a bath.”

Rûsa, who was sitting on the edge of a water pool, dressed with a white towel around his waist, looked unsure around.

“The last time I was in hot water, on Sauron’s idea for punishing me for something I had done wrong, I ended up with very unpleasant burns. I am not entering the water, thank you.”

Maeglin looked at him oddly for a moment from where she already was in the water with an own white towel around her body for modesty, then nodded to someone behind him. Aredhel gave Rûsa a forceful push in his back so he fell down in the pool while she re-joined Eöl in another pool.

“If you had came down in the pool earlier, my mother would not have pushed you like that.” was all Maeglin said as Rûsa came back up to the surface. He frowned in displeasure, then did straighten his back and shoulders up so the water ran among the many scars he had on his upper body.

“Very funny.”

Eöl and Aredhel watched the younger Elves from their pool, ready to act if something went wrong.

“Your middle brother would have a fit if he saw what we are seeing right now, right? Given how he reacted at hearing that we two were married.”

“Whatever. Turgon’s view on things has always been affected by our Vanyarin grandmother Indis, as he was very close to her in childhood. He did loosen up a bit at his marriage to Elenwë. Really, one would think that he learned a lesson with my behaviour, that some She-elves simply are not able to sit still and not being able to leave when we wants to.”

Aredhel did not mention how things had been in Nan Elmoth. Sure, part of it had been Eöl’s worries that she would leave him or that something would happen to her, with him being one of the few in his family tribe, the Metal clan, to escape from an Orc attack without being captured, but the magic in Nan Elmoth had twisted his heart into darkness. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin had learnt to swim in Gondolin as it had not been any rivers in Nan Elmoth, only a few deep pools scattered in the dark forest. As she stopped to let Rûsa catch up, as he was using one hand on the edge stones to keep himself floating in the spiritual water, two new voices were heard from the pool beside theirs. Male Elves, if she was not wrong.  

“You are reacting to this news far better than several other fathers to the other mothers to my baseborn children, Fëanor.”

“First of all, Taurion, if Nelyo learned that I had beaten you as reaction on getting the news that you fathered her boy, both she and your own wife would not be above showing me their displeasure about that, I have seen your small-sized wife defending you before and Nelyo is a skilled warrior these days. Second, you have told me about what you was forced to do in Angband, so I know that neither yourself or Nelyo actually planned to beget Rûsa together. Thirdly, I am not exactly in a position to talk in terms of fathering many children, with my own father having five children, I have seven children myself, Ñolofinwë has four children and lastly Arafinwë has five children.“

Maeglin was surprised, what was her great-uncle Fëanor doing here? And the other voice belonged to lord Taurion, the chieftain of the Wood clan among the Avari Elf clans, her father Eöl had presented her for him here in the Halls once she had healed enough much after her death. When Rûsa opened his mouth to speak, she quickly stopped him by placing her hand over his mouth. Rûsa rolled his eyes but was quiet.

“What are you planning to do at your Rebirth, Taurion? In Aman, people will without doubt look at you with suspicion because you are a Avari Elf when they hear that Nelyo has a child with you, not to mention this minor problem of that you were forced to father children with other She-elves as well. And you were already a widower the first time it happened.” said Feanor and Taurion sighed deeply, before he answered in a serious voice:

“As far as I know at the moment, almost everyone of the other mothers to my baseborn children refuse to have anything to do with me. Their memories of Angband are too painful, so I doubt that most of them want to be reborn. In fact, pretty much all the fourteen children born between my wife’s youngest daughter and Rûsa has been left in my care, so they will be taken up as true-born members of the Wood clan. But Rûsa is different from the others, he is the only one of my baseborn children to have survived for so long in Angband and surely lady Maitimo would wish to keep him in her care?”

“If she won’t do that, then she is not the child-loving daughter I once raised back in Aman as my firstborn. She has always loved children and it was nearly impossible to get her free from her brothers and cousins as she grew up. I can even recall a couple of events where Maitimo calmly acted as if the children were not clinging on her while she talked to a Loremaster or other important person at my father’s court, the moment that she excused herself from the other Elf, she was fully focused on the children again. If she is not able to embrace her own son, raised in Angband or not, then I am going to threaten her with disowning, without really mean it, of course.”   

A few moments of silence, before Taurion started to speak again.

“Raised in the Dark Lord’s service as the Warg Rider or not, I am still proud of Rûsa. He has managed to survive in Angband far longer than any of his half-siblings did and even if he did only manage to meet his mother a few days before their deaths, it is still far more than many other separated mothers and Elflings in Angband ever got.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Hearing his father and maternal grandfather speak like that about his mother and of himself, nearly made Rûsa start weeping in a strange mix of relief and joy. He had deeply feared that they would reject him for having been a War Leader of Morgoth in life, but after learning a little more basic facts about his mother’s family and what they had done in the war against Morgoth, that fear had begun to lessen a bit.

“Don’t move yet, they might hear us!” mentioned Maeglin in a soundless movement on her lips, using Ósanwë to drive home her point even more. Rûsa could only nod weakly, far too emotionally exhausted to do anything else. Judging from the sound of movements in the water, Fëanor and Taurion was leaving their pool. Once they had left, both Maeglin and Rûsa let out a deep breath they had not been aware of that they had been holding.

“Well, that was some new information about you, indeed. A offspring of the chieftain of the Wood clan, who could have imagined that…”

“Is it good or bad?” asked Rûsa nervously, once again mentally cursing the fact that he knew next to nothing about how the lives of Elves was outside that of slavery. Maeglin gently pushed him down in a sitting position and started to comb out his wet hair.

“That means that even if you are a baseborn child, both of your parents have very high status in society, even if they belong to two different cultures. Your mother, lady Maedhros, is actually a royal princess among the Noldor, the firstborn child to their Crown Prince. And by being a chieftain, lord Taurion is the leader of a clan of his own, small it might be, but still a clan no less.”

Rûsa did not say anything as he listened on what Maeglin knew of the Fëanorian family.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa had already been back in the healing chamber for a while when Maedhros came back. In fact, she found him laying on his size in a curled up position, sleeping rather heavy.

“He must have worn himself out somehow while I was away with my family…I just hope that he did not get into a fight or something…”

Sitting down, she carefully moved up his head in her lap without waking up her son. Rûsa’s dark eyebrows furrowed at the movement, then relaxed again when she was being still. Ensuring that he would not awaken soon, Maedhros made a careful hand sign to her brothers to come closer for a first real look on their until-now unknown nephew.

“No doubt that he is of Fëanorian blood, sister, he has a clear mix of yours and Taurion’s appearance under all those scars.”

“But it would be more obvious if not all the scars laid in such layers on his skin…”

Amras was gently shoved aside by his twin, the older siblings all knowing that he was only teasing. Maedhros stroked Rûsa’s dark red hair, before she said:

“I have been thinking…I was never able to name him properly before he was taken from me after the birth, but I also do not want to take away his whole self-identity that he had built up over his life in Middle-earth. If he ever is to live in Aman at his Rebirth, then he at least needs a _amilessë_ , his mother-name that I never got to give him. And since he is my firstborn and heir, I hereby grant him the  _amilessë_ of _Russafinwë_ , “Red Finwë” with Rûsa as his nickname, as I want to prove to any skeptics that Rûsa indeed is my legal firstborn.”

Taurion had once told her that it was an Avari custom to wait 12 years before giving a child his or her father-name, as their father-names often hinted to the child’s personality or some special skill the child had, so Maedhros knew that for now, her chosen _amilessë_ for Rûsa was going to be his known name.  


	12. Mental resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Second Age, Celebrimbor does his best to keep the Three hidden from Sauron and some dark secrets are revealed for him 
> 
> (A small bonus for those who remember what Fëanor once said to Melkor in the Silmarillion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for hints of torture and killing here

Year 1697 in the Second Age, Middle-earth.

“…haah…haah…haah…”

Celebrimbor gasped weakly for breath, his mind somewhere between loss of consciousness and alertness because of the massive pain throughout his body, only being held up by the chains around his wrists. How could he have been such a fool, trusting Annatar to not be a possible foe when Gil-galad’s and Galadriel’s warnings came?

“…at least….uncle Maglor is safe…back in Aman…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Something in his last living uncle had snapped at the death of his sister. He became like a empty shell of himself, just stopping to eating, sleeping and moving. Not even first reacting on the sight of Maedhros' and Rûsa’s dead bodies being placed on a small boat together with one of the two remaining Simarils in Maedhros' left hand, the boat then had been pushed out into the sea before a burning arrow had been sent from the shore to set the burial boat’s sail on fire. A strange light had filled Maglor’s eyes at seeing the boat burning, and then, for the first time in several days, he had reacted._

_“…no…NELYO!!!_

_Maglor had wailed in despair and tried to rush out in the waves, but he had been stopped by Celebrimbor, Elrond and Elros._

_“Uncle, no! It is already too late!”_

_Once the burning boat had sunk into the sea with the bodies and the Silmaril into the deep of the sea, Maglor had re-entered his current behaviour and Celebrimbor had pleaded with Finarfin to take Maglor back to Aman for healing. He had even offered to take Maglor’s place in exile, unable to ever return to Aman as long as the Oath was not fulfilled. As Celebrimbor saw it, his now half-mad uncle needed the Valar’s forgiveness and healing far more than himself. If Maglor was allowed to return to Aman, then he would remain in Middle-earth for a unknown time and try to heal the deep scars that the Second and Third Kinslaying had done. He knew that he would not be able to do much, but at least doing something that was better than not doing anything at all._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Wake up, Celebrimbor.”

A painful slap on his cheek forced Celebrimbor to wake up from his memory-dreams. His eyes were rather unfocused, the result of the concussion he had gotten as part of his torture before, and he had to fight to focus on the person in front of him.

“…no…no, please no…”

Sauron actually smirked at hearing Celebrimbor pleading when he saw who it was. Even if he still had not revealed where he had hidden the Three Rings of Powers meant for the Elves, it did not meant that Sauron still could mess up with Celebrimbor in some way.

“Now, now, Celebrimbor, is that how you greet an old friend?”

“F…friend? More like traitor…!!”

Sauron was quick to silence Celebrimbor with a new slap, this time on his other cheek. He then held a small whip against Celebrimbor’s unprotected chest, where it already was several bleeding wounds from the whippings he had been given before.

“You know what, Celebrimbor? Your dear, beloved aunt Nelyafinwë was also rather stubborn in the beginning of _her_ captivity, but it turned out to be almost amazing easy to break her once that breeding slave had gotten her pregnant with that uncontrollable son she ended up birthing, mother instincts for a unborn brat are so easy to use…”

That caught Celebrimbor’s attention, and in a flash of horror, he realized what Sauron was talking about. It did not help when Sauron put a hand on his forehead and Celebrimbor suddenly was forced to see a vision of the past.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Maedhros was laying on her side on the floor in the dark cell, shaking and crying in despair. She was still unable to truly understand what really just had happened to her._

_“This has to be a nightmare! Please, let it be a nightmare that I soon will wake up from…!”_

_She felt a thin hand on her shoulder, the owner not moving from where he was laying beside her. Sobbing again, Maedhros hesitated before she put her hand over his, hearing Taurion begging over and over again for her forgiveness in the mind-link that had been created between them by the forced union of their bodies. Her other hand was placed where her womb was, where a tiny little life just had came into being._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Celebrimbor was shaking in horror when he was returned to the present after seeing how the newborn Rûsa had been taken from his mother. His silver eyes were wide in disbelief as he looked on Sauron.

“You... you and Morgoth...? You made Rûsa, my…my cousin... through this? Then…no! The reason to why he took her as a hostage to escape…no! He could not have known who she was for him, not when he was taken from her so soon after birth!”

“Oh, you actually got to meet Rûsa before he died at the end of the War of Wrath? Well, given that he never was fully loyal to lord Melkor thanks to the Fëanorian blood he got from your aunt, I was not too surprised when he refused to defend Angband at the same time as lord Melkor was captured by the Valar.” smiled Sauron in a very frightening way. Celebrimbor drew a faint breath in terror as he was forced to watch other scenes of Maedhros' time in Angband. Her horrified reaction at seeing Taurion’s dead body after that he had killed himself, the long months of Maedhros being a subject for torture while she fought to keep Rûsa alive inside her with her own weakened strength even if it meant that she would be spiritually drain long before the birth, and finally where the newborn Rûsa was taken from her. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As the last vision faded from Celebrimbor’s mind, Maedhros pleading words to give Rûsa back to her still echoing in his ears, Sauron picked up a dagger from inside his robes. Pulling the dagger along one of Celebrimbor’s half-healed wounds so it started to bleed again, Sauron spoke:

“Rûsa was…well, not perfect if you ask me. Lord Melkor likely came to regret the idea of using your aunt to breed a slave with Fëanor’s blood, when he grew up and started to show signs of sharing some of your grandfather’s personality. In your unknown cousin’s case, he became obsessed with never siring any children for as long as lord Melkor remained in Middle-earth, I remember how he sometimes would knock a chosen enslaved She-elf unconscious and carry her back to the breeding cells without having done anything with her, and naturally he had some mother issues with the fact that sweet Maitimo never was around after his birth. But of course, we soon found a almost perfect She-elf to match him up with…one of the two granddaughters to your great-uncle Fingolfin, a young lady who happened to be half-Avari just like Rûsa himself, to be precise.”

Celebrimbor felt how cold horror filled his insides. Even if he never had met her in life, he had been told about Maeglin from Idril, how Maeglin seemed to have changed over the 3 months that she had been missing from Gondolin and that Idril had found out part of the truth when she had noticed the faint shadow of a marriage bond in Maeglin’s black eyes.

“Do not tell me that….”

Sauron actually laughed. A cruel, icy laugh so unlike the laughter he had when masking as Annatar.

“Ah, yes, a very fine pair they made, for these ten short months that they were joined. The involuntary Traitor of Gondolin and the unknown grandson of Fëanor! Oh, how I would have loved to see the faces of Fëanor and Fingolfin in that moment as their own grandchildren was joined together in body and spirit! That foolish little girl did a good job in indirectly teaching Rûsa a long-needed lesson in that you did not disobey lord Melkor’s orders without grave consequences, for when he covered her escape from Angband, he also signed on her death contract in the Fall of Gondolin. I still has very pleasant memories of hearing Rûsa’s raw screams in grief as he found his little lady laying dead at the bottom of a ravine, with her body all broken after the fall.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa blocked a sword from getting a hit on his chest with his own sword and quickly killed the guard before the other Elf could react. All around him, the white city of Gondolin was like a scene from a nightmare. Screams, the sounds of running feet as the civilians tried to escape, dead bodies laying on the blood-filled streets as the city was burning._

_“Lómiel! Lómiel, where are you?!”_

_Where was she? The link between their souls and minds told him that she still was alive somewhere, so he did not fear that she was dead. Well no yet, at least. He only hoped that she was not caught by the Orcs somewhere else in the burning city, fearing that she would be either harmed or killed before he was able to stop it from happen. By pure coincidence, Rûsa tripped over the dead body belonging to Rog, the Lord of the_ _House of the Hammer of Wrath and fell into the large complex of_ _forges and furnaces and workshops belonging to the House of the Mole. He was able to spot Maeglin’s presence very well in this place, as if someone had put a_ _big note everywhere saying that it belonged to her._

_“I knew that it was the hands of a smith she had, even if they were almost ruined thanks to Sauron’s so-called “tender” care that he calls torture…!”_

_Suddenly he felt a loud yell of pain in his mind. And the crying voice of a female. It was Maeglin’s reaction on getting her legs crushed by the rock on the escape path, even if Rûsa himself did not know that. He only knew that she was injured in some way, and his instincts told him to find and protect her. Trying to use their bond to sense where she was, he called:_

_“Where are you, Lómiel? I know that you are still alive. Come to me.”_

_However, her respond was one of terror and panic._

_“No…no, no, NO! Stay out of my mind, Rûsa! Don’t come over here! Don’t come any closer to me!”_

_Too late did Rûsa sense the desperation and panic in her mind, and during Maeglin’s last moments of life did they share the view of the rocks rushing to meet her falling body as a horrified scream from Rûsa echoed in her mind._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Celebrimbor had believed that he had no more tears left in his broken body at this point, yet now one faint tear left hid eye as he saw the vision of Rûsa crying in despair as he held Maeglin’s dead body in his arms, refusing to let go of her in his overwhelming grief. How in the name of the Allfather had his poor, ill-begotten cousin even managed to remain alive after so much pain in his life? How much of his horrible life had also indirectly affected Maedhros through the enforced life-bond between mother and son?  

“The last rebellious part in him was broken at that girl’s death. Too bad that he did not make her pregnant in that short month she spent as his concubine before her escape, as a brat born between them would have been a _excellent_ addition to lord Melkor’s collection of unknown descendants of Fëanor.” said Sauron in a soft, almost purring voice while touching Celebrimbor’s cheek in a movement that felt like ice against his skin. Celebrimbor shuddered at the touch.  

“Then I am grateful for that Rûsa never fathered any children, or I am sure that people would start complaining once again that my grandfather has far too many offspring…ow!”

The hit with the whip against his face caused Celebrimbor a new wave of pain. But if he managed to get more information about Rûsa from Sauron, information that he could pass on to Maedhros in the Halls of Mandos, then the pain might be worth it.

“I am starting to get tired of this hide-and-seek game you try to play, Celebrimbor. Where are the Three Rings? Tell me where they are hidden, and I will reveal more about Rûsa without causing you more harm.”

But Celebrimbor had heard enough. Lies or truth, there were always something that was best kept buried forever. And in this case, Rûsa might had been a even bigger victim of Morgoth and Sauron than the rest of his family. The House of Fëanor line had the Oath as their excuse, the House of Fingolfin and House of Finarfin had followed Feanor to Middle-earth. But Rûsa? He had been born in Angband as a result of something that normally never happened between the Eldar, he had lived his whole life on a lie about his parents and knew no other way of living. Spitting in Sauron’s face, Celebrimbor said in a voice that made him sound almost exactly like Fëanor:

“Like hell that I will fall for your tricks again, you weak copier of the former jail-crow of Mandos.”  

That seemed to have the desired effect. Sauron’s golden eyes flashed in fury over the insult towards Morgoth and before the fallen Maia realized exactly what he was doing, he had grabbed a heavy hammer that his tortures had used to break Celebrimbor’s arms and legs with as a part of the torture to make him reveal where the Three Rings were hidden. Only one single stroke, aimed against the side of his face so his neck was broken by the force, was needed to end Celebrimbor’s life. And yet as his _fëa_ left his body for the Halls of Mandos, Celebrimbor still held a faint smirk on his lips, pleased with that he had managed to keep silent about where the Three Rings were hidden and on the same time got some more information about his feral cousin that he had long wanted to know.


	13. Healing and rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing goes slow for some of the Elves in the Halls of Mandos, others leaves for rebirth....

At the same time as Celebrimbor died, things were happening in the Halls of Mandos as well.

“ _We have listened to both versions of the event, one version from each of you. As per an earlier decision about cases like yours, the bond between you, Maedhros and Taurion, is now annulled. At your coming Rebirths, Taurion will now only be bound to his lawful wife Atara and Maedhros will be free to marry or remaining unwed whatever she chooses._ ”

Both of the two Elves in question bowed deeply.

“Thank you for these words, lord Námo. However, there is one small question that I wish to have an answer to, before Atara and I leave for the Path of Rebirth: Do you Vala have a plan on what to do with Rûsa, the son born between me and lady Maedhros?” asked Taurion, revealing some of Maedhros' own worry about their son.

“ _Be at ease. Eru will not let your child having to feel guilt for his own birth. He will find his own place one day, his path is simply not easy to see yet. Yes,_ _Rûsa will face trials because of his birth and his past life in Middle-earth, but he will overcome them in time._ ”

Hearing that the Vala would not say anything more in this matter, Maedhros and Taurion withdrew from the chamber they had been summoned to.

~X~X~X~X~X~

Meanwhile, Rûsa had now been placed in the Hall of Memories. Given how he had lived in Angband, neither of his parents were too surprised over that he had needed a very long time to go though so many different traumas that he had.

“Rûsa? Are you awake?”

He did try and open his eyes at hearing his mother’s voice, but Rûsa quickly fell back into sleep. Sighing fondly, Maedhros sat down on a tree root beside where her son was sleeping. Stroking his hair, she wondered when it would be her own turn to be Reborn. Once someone had been healed and freed from their trauma in life, they were meant to wait for an unknown time until that the Valar believed them ready for life again. 

“Just thinking about how things will likely be for my son when we all is Reborn, are rather frightening…even if few saw his face after that he started to wear that iron mask will someone still be able know that it is Rûsa from his voice or behaviour? He is my son, and yet I know so little about him even after all these years here in the Halls…”

Not that Maedhros actually complained, with the way he had grown up, but was it really that simple to get personal information out of him? Just earning his trust had taken a very long time, and even now she was pretty sure that he did not trust her fully. While that hurt her mother instincts it was still a lot better than in the beginning when they had arrived to the Halls.   

“Mother…?”

Rûsa had turned slowly on his head, trying to see her as he reached out for her with his closest hand. Maedhros felt a sharp pain in her heart to see how sickly and thin Rûsa’s hand was. For some unknown reason, the more he had been freed from his deep trauma from living in Angband, the more Rûsa’s  _fëa_ had started to become thin and gaunt-looking. Námo’s best way of explaining was that Rûsa had been seriously lacking in love and caring from others as he grew up in Angband. A bell was singing softly.

“That faint bell that is being heard…that is a signal that someone is entering the Halls, right? It was similar sounds a while ago…” 

“Yes, it is that bell. Don’t worry about it, try and sleep again. Remember, the more you sleep, the more you are able to get yourself free from the pains you felt in life.” Maedhros answered as she took hold of his hand. Calling Rûsa two-faced in terms of his behaviour would not be too far off: One moment he could act a lot like his grandfather Fëanor in temper, revealing why he had been so feared as a warrior in Morgoth’s service, and in another moment he could be like a lost little child who did not know how to act around people.

“Sleep, my boy. Even if you are tired, it might go away with some rest.”

With a minor protest in his black eyes that clearly said that he was tired of sleeping, Rûsa fell back into his deep sleep.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Námo himself was carrying the  _fëa_ of Celebrimbor to the healing chambers with the healing water. From the dark look on the Vala’s grim face, he was furious with what Sauron had done.

“ _Just what is it that draws Dark Lords to the House of Fëanor actually? Oooh, if that good-for-nothing fallen Maia was here, I would show him what I thinks about his deeds!_”

Once Námo had taken away the worst taints left on Celebrimbor’s  _fëa_ from Sauron’s torture, he nodded to his Maiar to bring Celebrimbor’s closest family members there. As one could expect, Curufin was the first one to arrive, making a strained noise like a caged, tormented animal when he saw his son.   

“Tyelpë! No…no…not my son…”

Lucky for Celebrimbor, he had been put into a deep healing sleep or he might have felt pain when his crying father lifted up his upper body in his arms. Celebrimbor’s injures was a very painful reminder of how Maedhros had looked after that the newborn Rûsa had been taken from her, with all the injuries and scars from earlier wounds.

“It is _him_ , right? Nelyo showed the same state in her mind…”

Sighing at all the questions coming from Fëanor and his children, Námo shooed away most of them so Celebrimbor could be allowed to rest.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, inside a house in Tol Eressëa:

Maeglin slowly became aware of that it did hurt, her whole body was in pain for some reason. It did hurt to breathe in her new body, unused to living in flesh as she had became over the time that she had been in the Halls of Mandos. The sunlight tore though her eyelids, blinding her. By instinct, Maeglin tossed around in the bed despite being very weak.

“Easy now, lass, or you will fall out of the bed and my wife would be very displeased to see that her only female cousin managed to injure herself on the very morning she is Reborn.”

That voice…

No, it could not be true, Mortals did not live that long! And yet there was only one person who had called her lass apart from the few times she had visited the Dwarves with her father…yes, it was his voice. Sounding older and somewhat more worn out than what she remembered from her last 14 years in life.

“…Tuor…?” whispered Maeglin in disbelief when she finally opened her eyes and slowly began to distinguish him from the blurriness in her sight. His golden hair and beard were more strained with silver than what she remembered, and there were wrinkles in his face that had not been there at the Fall of Gondolin. But there was no mistake in who it is.   

“Aye. It is good to see you again among the living world, Maeglin. You nearly scared the life out of us when you killed yourself like that back in the Fall of Gondolin.” smiled Tuor gently before he rose from the chair he had been sitting on and poured water into a glass from a pitcher. Helping Maeglin to sit up, he ensured that she did not choke on the water. The cold, fresh water almost tasted like heaven for Maeglin, something that she never had tasted in Middle-earth. Even the very air here seemed to be cleaner in a strange way.     

“W-where is Idril?”

“Right here.”

There she was in the doorframe, the former princess of Gondolin who had once been like a mother figure for Maeglin after the death of her parents. Walking over to the bed, Idril bent forwards to meet her younger cousin’s black eyes. Gently hugging her, Idril spoke:

“You might not believe it, Maeglin, but you have been missed greatly among us two. Yes, even that hopeless rudeness and bad temper you would give Tuor at times back in Gondolin because you felt that he had taken me from you. Something never seemed really right when you were gone.”

Maeglin blushed heavy, a dark red colour that did not really fit her pale skin colour, at Idril’s words. It was somewhat true what Idril said, many of the other Lords in Gondolin had secretly likened her relationship with Tuor and Idril like that of a young child trying to retake her place in the family when a new family member arrived. In a very odd sense, that had been true as both Tuor and Earendil had pushed Maeglin away from Idril’s care in her own view on things back then.

“Idril…my legs hurt…” whispered Maeglin as she tried to move her legs and was rewarded with a sharp pain in response. A pain that brought up the memory of how her legs had been crushed by the falling rock before her death.

“Phantom pains, most likely. It is not unheard of for the Reborn to have phantom pains somewhere in their body during their first days in their new _hröa_ , as their _fëa_ still reacts by instinct to their old one.”

Much to Maeglin’s relief, Tuor brought an numbing oil that lessened the phantom pains in her legs when Idril started to massage them. Seeing that Maeglin was very tired Idril suggested that she would try and rest.

“We are not going anywhere today. And we are not the only people around who suddenly has a Maia showing up with a Reborn relative out of the blue. It is not uncommon that someone who is newly Reborn takes time to adjust to being alive again, so no one will wonder why we are not leaving the house in the coming days.”

Tuor, who had closed the window and freeing a small curtain so the guestroom became darker, seemed to remembering something when he was about to leave.

“Oh, right. Maeglin, you do not have to worry about being bored out of your mind here. We have a small forge that belongs to the house, we just have not found any use for it yet as neither one of us are blacksmiths.”

“Really!?”

Maeglin would have tried to get up from bed in order to see the forge right away, but was pushed back into bed by Idril.

“Rest first, cousin, and you can use the whole remaining day to explore the forge later.”

Maeglin gave Idril a disappointed look, but felt that she was right as she usually ended up being back in Gondolin. She was very tired in her whole body and a short rest felt very tempting right now.   

“Eärendil will be very happy at hearing that you and his grandfather has been Reborn, Maeglin. He has missed his mysterious “aunt” surprising much despite that you never were close to him back in Gondolin.”

Laughing that deep laugher that she remembered so well from her last years in Gondolin Tuor ruffled her hair, much to Maeglin’s annoyance, and left the guestroom.

“I hate it when someone ruffles my hair like that.”

“Only because you never care for how your hair could look after a day in the forge.” teased Idril with a smile. 

“That is a natural look after working hard in the forge, cousin.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the Halls of Mandos, Celebrimbor had now woken up from his healing sleep and indeed confirmed that it was Sauron who was the cause of how he had died. No one was really surprised when both Fëanor and Caranthir left the healing chamber, likely to let out their anger somewhere else before calming down and coming back for more family talk.

“It never stopped to amaze me how easy uncle Moryo would be angry for something. Oh well, it would be weird otherwise if this family did not have some form of Grandfather’s temper…” said Celebrimbor in a tired voice where he now laid with his head in Curufin’s lap. With her other brothers nodding in agreement, Maedhros tried to push down the memories her nephew’s injuries had brought up. Mentally, she could still feel every injury Sauron had given her in Angband, all that happening while she also fought to keep Rûsa alive inside her womb. The fear of losing her unborn son had been stronger than any fear of death, so it had only been natural that Maedhros had done her best to protect Rûsa during the whole pregnancy with her strong mother instincts.

“Hush now, son, you should not worn yourself out with talking. Try to rest instead.” commanded Curufin in a worried voice, having a very rare moment of acting like a mother-hen as it normally was either Maedhros or Maglor who worried a lot about the younger siblings. Rolling his eyes at his father’s words, Celebrimbor tried to spot his only aunt among them.

“Aunt Nelyo, are you here? I still have a little difficult to focus my eyes…”

Maedhros come over to Curufin and bent over Celebrimbor, so he could see her. She knew how it was to suffer from a concussion and it was not very pleasant to be unable to focus the eyes to see.

“I am here, nephew. What is it that you want to tell me?”

“Don’t know if…you learned about it here…in the Halls, but…Sauron told me something…about… Rûsa…”

Much to both his own and the family’s big disappointment, Celebrimbor sunk back into the healing sleep before he was able to tell Maedhros what he had learned about his cousin.

“I told him to not continue talking or this sort of thing would happen!” groaned Curufin for himself, earning a light shove on his shoulder from Maedhros as she rose to stand again.

“I will go back to Rûsa at the Memory Tree and check on him, he might be worried if I am gone for too long.”

“Trust us, Nelyo, if there is any Elf who has a right to become close to his missing mother after being stolen from you during his whole life, it is your son.” Celegorm commented from where he was trying to avoid getting pinned between Amrod and Amras, who was determined to do something with their blond brother's braided hair. Celegorm was strong, but against a pair of attacking twins it was nearly impossible to escape.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa gasped for air, not out of necessity but out of habit from when he had been a living being, as he woke up. Right now, he had managed to free himself from the massive guilt over Maeglin’s death in the Fall of Gondolin. When meeting here in the Halls over the past years in secret, Maeglin had explained to him why she had committed suicide and if Rûsa was being honest, he never blamed her reason for the act. When you had family members to protect and also just gotten both of your legs crushed under a falling rock, it was better to sacrifice your own life to ensure that they escaped.

“And it is not like that we were bonded by free will. Yes, we never had any ill feelings between us, for we both knew who to blame for our enforced marriage bond, but it really was for the best that we had our union annulled so we both would be free at our Rebirths. If anything, I would like to have a chance to choose a possible wife…”

Out of the pure honesty that was so rare in Angband, mostly because of how their relationship had started, so did not Rûsa count in Maeglin in his thoughts at the moment. It felt like he would dishonour her again if he tried. In a way, he had already dishonoured Maeglin when he had been forced to make her his concubine back in Angband. But that had also been the lesser of two evils at the time, or she would have been thrown into the cells where the breeding She-elves had been kept from the other slaves. Just the very fear of Maeglin suffering as a breeding female had given Rûsa a excuse to help her escape from Angband.

“Rûsa? I am back now. I will tell you later why I left for a while.”

Nodding to his mother in a quiet greeting Rûsa relaxed a bit as Maedhros picked up a comb from an inside pocket of her grey robe and started to comb his hair. The slow, steady moments helped him to fall back into a healing sleep that he always needed after being free from a deep trauma in Angband.


	14. Time changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time might seem to stand still in the Halls, but in the outside world, a lot can happen...

To pass some time, Maedhros looked around on the tapestries. She felt a small hint of joy when she found the tapestry showing Elrond’s wedding to Celebrian, the silver-haired daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn. Seeing the images of them raising their own twins, Elladan and Elrohir, brought up many memories of Maglor fostering Elrond and Elros for her.

“ _Twins are indeed special. A blessing, to have two children for the price of one pregnancy._ ” smiled Miriel as she came up to her granddaughter, who was crying by the memories. Offering her a handkerchief so Maedhros would whip away her tears, Miriel turned to see the scene where the Imladris' family was meeting the newborn Arwen for the first time.

“Elrond and Elros reminded me so much about their uncles, even if they did have a different hair colour…and I did not want to see another pair of Elflings lose their lives because of what we had done…

Maedhros swallowed hard at remembering how difficult it had been for her to let go of Eluréd and Elurín’s dead bodies when Amrod and Amras had found her in the woods, still holding the two small bodies to her own in a failed attempt to give them warmth.

“ _You did your best, Maedhros. And don’t forget that little Eluréd and Elurín is trying their best to defend you from rude people. Remembering what happened yesterday?_ ”

The memory of the two six-year-old twins managing to trap several Doriath Elves by using nothing else than a ball of yarn and her as bait, made Maedhros smirk.

“Nimloth complained about Aredhel’s daughter Maeglin teaching her sons a bit too many ways of using traps before she was Reborn, especially after that Thingol got caught as well.”

“ _Well, with that height of his, the boys can barely reach up to his shins, small-grown as they are beside him even if they were rather tall for their age at their death. Elwing turned out to be short in height as well._ ”

Looking closer at her granddaughter as she spoke, Miriel began to braid Maedhros' hair so it did not hung loose around her shoulders.

“ _Now, where is your own boy hiding this time, sweetheart? I have not seen him around here in a while._ ”

“Rûsa is with lord Námo for that routine inspection everyone here in the Halls needs to do before we can be Reborn. I overheard him say something about that my son is one of the hardest cases he had seen…”

Miriel nodded, understanding that Maedhros had not been wanting to see the total damage done to her son in Angband.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside a chamber, Námo was carefully checking on the state of Rûsa’s face and head. Rûsa himself tried to keep still when he had been asked to open his mouth for a look.

“ _Three missing teeth on your left side and four on the right side. And then there is some straight scars on the inside of your cheeks. Did they pull out your teeth as part of the punishment for helping Maeglin escape from Angband?_ ”

“Yes, and the scars on the inside of my mouth are old ones, mainly coming from a so-called scold's bridle that Sauron created especially for me because, according to him I “never learnt to keep my tongue still”. Not that I ever cared, I never liked to obey him and even freely took punishment meant for someone else.”

Námo mentally rolled his eyes as he remembered how Maedhros could be at times. Like mother like son, it seemed. Then again, he would not be a descendant of Fëanor otherwise. Writing down what Rûsa had said about how the scars had been caused, the Vala then checked on his ears and eyes.

“ _Your hearing…a growing loss of hearing over the years, from all the noise in Angband, right? And the way you move your eyes…partly a loss of vision from not being used to light. I have seen similar cases before in those who had spent a very long time in Angband. Your mother never recovered her full hearing, but lucky her eyesight recovered to almost its full power._ ”

When Námo touched the V-shaped scar along Rûsa’s jaw line, Rûsa covered the scar with his fingers.

“Is it possible to keep this scar somehow? I have seen how similar my twin uncles can be to my mother at a far distance, and then with some of my older half-siblings also inherited my father's dark red hair…”  

Námo nodded, understanding what Rûsa tried to say. It was a rather big possibility that several of Taurion’s 15 baseborn children would be mistaken for each other thanks to sharing their common father’s hair-colour, so if they were able to distinguish each other in different ways, the lesser risk of misunderstandings when they all was to be living in Aman.

“ _I shall tell my brother about that. Your father did actually request something similar when he got the chance to see exactly how many of his children had inherited his dark red hair. His wife Atara was less amused._ ”

Rûsa swallowed hard at hearing that. He had met his father’s lawful wife a couple of times, and for being an Elvish woman of such a short stature as she was, Atara had even managed to scare Thingol in her anger when her two daughters had run into the former king of Doriath and gotten scared by his stern face.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been one of her old nightmares about Angband. The one where she was forced to see Sauron take her newborn son away from her and she was unable to stop him from doing so._

_“N-no…please…d-don’t! Don’t take…!!”_

_“Aunt! Aunt Maedhros, wake up!”_

_“I do not think she is hearing us…Elros, wait! Squeeze out the rag first!”_

_Two young voices that did not belong in the nightmare. Celebrimbor? No, he had been a grown adult for several hundred years now. Something wet landed in her face and forced Maedhros to wake up. Sitting up in the bed in pure surprise despite that her damaged back and right shoulder protested against the sudden movement, she looked around and saw that Elrond and Elros, dressed in just their night robes, was standing at her bed._

_“What are you two doing here in my room…?” she asked, still trying to catch her breath and holding up the dripping wet rag with her remaining hand, feeling how the cold water ran down along her face._

_“We was about to go to sleep, just like Ada Maglor told us…”_

_“Then we heard something from your room, aunt Maedhros! When we came to check, you were moaning and tossing around in your sleep. Did you have a nightmare, aunt?”_

_Naturally Elros would go straight to the point. Elrond was the more quiet sibling, always trying to find a way to explain things without being insensitive towards someone else._

_“Yes…thanks for waking me up before it got worse. Just…follow Elrond’s suggestion next time and squeeze out the wet rag first, ok? I got a small shock when the wet rag landed in my face like that…”_

_She was very tired, it had been a bad sleeping period for her under the past nights. Much to Maedhros' surprise, the dark-haired twins suddenly climbed up in her bed, trying to find a way into the nest of many blankets that covered Maedhros because she could not sleep on something hard as it reminded her about the breeding cells in Angband._

_“Then it will be our duty to chase away these mean nightmares of yours. Ada Maglor did ask us to look after you while he was away on the hunt, after all.”_

_Maedhros mentally rolled her eyes at Elros' childish yet so simple logic, sighing deeply as they laid down on each side of her._

_“I swear to the Allfather that I have one adult nursemaid in my remaining brother and two future ones in you two…”_

_“I am no nursemaid, I am a future healer.” answered Elrond somewhere on her right side under the blanket as he tried finding a comfortable sleeping position without causing discomfort to Maedhros' right shoulder. Once both of them were laying still, Maedhros herself laid down and quickly fell back into sleep with the boys close to her._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside the Halls of Mandos, the years had passed on and it had now become to early summer in Year 241 in the Third Age. In the house forge belonging to Tuor and Idril, Maeglin kept herself busy with what she could fix and repair for them. To work in a forge again, to hear the rhythm of the hammer of what she was working on…

“This is my life. This is what I am good at. I do not need a husband or the rank of a princess…yes…”

Turgon had not been very pleased with how Maeglin had been raised in Nan Elmoth. Sure, she could read and write in Quenya along with being taught the art of blacksmithing by Eöl, survival skills by Aredhel and some general basic social skills in both the Noldor and Avari cultures, but that had not been enough for the king of Gondolin. Far, far from enough. At the age of 80, only 20 years away from her coming of age and barely had studied anything serious at all in favour for a more work-oriented upbringing since Nan Elmoth was not that big, Maeglin had needed to study so much intently to catch up in what she would have learned if she had been raised in a full Noldor family. Such a culture crash the first lessons had been. Maeglin still shuddered at the memory of these lessons. In Nan Elmoth everyone had been required to live in the dark forest, even her parents who were the Lord and Lady of Nan Elmoth. Eöl had been the main blacksmith while Aredhel had been hunting birds and animals for food.

“No wonder Mother grew restless over the years before she managed to leave Gondolin…having to sit inside and doing embroidery, reading or just trying to pass on time with other “feminine arts” while listening to the other unwed maids talking nonsense about who they would like to marry, I hated it as well…”

The work in the forge, and later the duties of being named the Lady of the House of the Mole, had been her sanctuary in Gondolin. There was the work she was used to do, where she felt that she actually was doing some form of benefit.

“Mom, dad! Guess what! Something important happened in Imladris yesterday…ai!”

The cheerful voice was quickly put off in surprise, followed by the sound of someone falling down the short staircase. Maeglin did not look up from her work as she called over her shoulder:

“Do you never learn that you should not enter the house by using that wooden staircase, kiddo?”

Eärendil only groaned loudly in pain as answer from the front yard, having landed rather hard on his behind this time. 

“Ow, ow…why is it always this staircase that I end up tripping down for…?”

He was firmly convinced that the staircase in question were not a normal one. But it had belonged to the house even before Idril and Tuor had moved in, so it was not easy to just take it away.

“Eärendil? Did you trip on the staircase now again?”

By now, Idril had came out from the kitchen. At this time of the day Tuor normally would take a short afternoon nap, his body still being that of a older Man after all, but it was very likely that his son’s crash landing had woken him. And indeed Tuor looked out by the open window:

“What is going on out here?”

“Your son and the wooden staircase again, nothing else.” Maeglin informed as she walked past under the window, her arms filled with repaired kitchen pots that Idril had needed. In a quick attempt to reclaim some decency from the fall, Eärendil said:

“Ehm…well, as I was about to say before I tripped…I have gotten my seventh grandchild! My second granddaughter, named Arwen, was born yesterday to Elrond and Celebrian!”

As the deeper meaning behind his words sunk in, Idril looked like her begetting-day had come five months early.

“This must be celebrated indeed! A granddaughter! Honey, bring out the finest wines we have in the basement, I will cook something really nice to lunch and dinner!”

“As you wish, Idril.” called Tuor as he moved away from the window. With Idril dragging her son inside the house for more information about the newest little family member, Maeglin hid a small smile on her lips as she carried the repaired kitchen pots into the kitchen.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Námo carefully put his hand on Rûsa’s head, being mindful of how tense Rûsa could be if someone touched him without warning.

“ _There, it is finished now. You have done well, Rûsa. Even if you were afraid at being touched, you were brave in letting us check on you._ ”

“…I…was?” whispered Rûsa in confusion, his spirit having taken the shape of his child-self after the routine inspection. Námo picked up the small _fëa_ in one of his hands to carry him back to Maedhros.  

“ _Yes, it went much better than I first believed, given that you do not have the best views of the Valar and Maiar thanks to the two Dark Lords…on the other hand, unlike in life, here you have your mother if you feel that you needs the support of someone._ ”

Rûsa seemed to be unsure about Námo’s words, but chose to keep quiet about it. Sure, he had long learned that Námo, Vairë and their Maiar never would harm any of the  _fëar_ here in the Halls, his old habits from living under Morgoth and Sauron refused to leave so easily. If there was one thing Rûsa had learned under his life in Angband, so was it that you never ever should trust the two Dark Lords. He had seen the result many times over his lifetime and knew that it would only end in bitter tears of despair.  

“I wish that Mother and I could have managed to reveal our relation much earlier…”

Námo gave Rûsa a small, sad smile at hearing that. The words reminded him a lot of what he and the other Valar had felt ever since Morgoth’s painful betrayal of their trust.

“ _So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. A lot of things would be very different, indeed, if so many “what ifs” would have happed. But everything will be all right in the end_ _according to the will of the Allfather. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us._ ”

Handing over Rûsa to Maedhros, Námo made a mental reminder to his brother Irmo in the Gardens of Lorien that Rûsa’s new body would need a strengthened skeleton because of the serve case of rickets he had been suffering from in Angband. While Rûsa had been strong physically, his lack of nutritious and healthy food had given him weaker bones that would break easier because of how tender his skeleton had become over his life from that unknown and unseen illness.      


	15. A hurting heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart of a emotionally scarred woman and a mother is not to play with

With new arrivals into the Halls of Mandos being the best way to learn what happened in Middle-earth, news tended to become very rare during peaceful times. Yet on March 25 3019 in the Third Age, everyone in the Halls could feel a massive power shaking the Halls slightly.

“ _Calm down everyone, it is nothing dangerous. A great Evil is finally ending after a long time of worry with Sauron’s final defeat._ ” explained Námo in a loud, commanding voice to calm down everyone before panic could break out. That, of course, caught the attention of Celebrimbor and Rûsa.

“Really?!”

Both Maedhros and Curufin had to hold back their different sons so they would not run away to Námo for more information.

“You have all the time to ask later. Now, please wait with us others first until that we can hear more details.” requested Maedhros as she lifted over her son to stand behind her.

“Moooom!” protested Rûsa in a low hiss when his mother picked him up in her arms, but became quickly silent at seeing her warning look. Picking up her son was fairly easy for Maedhros to do as Rûsa currently had taken on his child-form again. That he also was seen more and more in that spiritual form was a sign on that Rûsa slowly became more and more distant from his life in Angband. The fact that he had been surrounded by his maternal relatives during his whole time in the Halls likely helped a bit as well. Sure, the House of Fëanor might not be an ideal family to help such an emotional scarred person, but as Taurion had been Reborn a few years after that Celebrimbor had arrived to the Halls, there really was not much choice in that.

“ _Yes, Sauron will never be able to become a threat again as he had been now after taking over after Morgoth as a Dark Lord. I believe that Morgoth and Sauron will come back for the Final Battle, but until then, Arda will be freed from their presence at least.”_

Námo and the Maiar wandered around to check on the remaining spirits in his Halls, ensuring that it had not became a massive panic at the reaction of Sauron losing his powers.

“ _And the last Elves who are living in Middle-earth shall slowly leave its shores over the coming years…_ ”

Hearing those words made the children of Fëanor look away to hide their private unhappiness. Memories of their own realms back in the First Age, the freedom of actually have something of their own to rule over, how they slowly had lost it in the wars against Morgoth…   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been a fairly normal autumn day in Amon Ereb, or at least as normal as it could be for them. Maedhros had tried to spell out a letter to Gil-galad about the current circumstances for Elrond and Elros as they were her brother’s_ _highly unexpected foster-sons at the moment without having to mention exactly how they had ended up in Maglor’s care again when said Half-elven twins suddenly showed up in the door to her office._

_“Aunt Maedhros, guess what we found in the cellar!”_

_Elros, always the one filled with such energy that Maedhros often wondered for herself if he somehow managed to steal away something sweet with lots of sugar from the kitchen, was the first to come in, carrying a small portrait while Elrond followed behind his brother._

_“What have you found now in that so called “treasure chamber” in the cellar?”_

_“We found this! At first, we did not believe what we saw, and then we had to come to you in order to see if it really was true…”_

_Maedhros took the portrait from Elros as he talked, and nearly started to cry when she saw what it was. A hand-drawn portrait of herself back in her days as Fëanor’s female heir, the so-called “Ruby of the House of Fëanor” as she once had been called in secret love letters from a anonymous admirer under many years back in Aman. Ah, the memories of trying to keep those letters hidden from her always so curious and yet so overprotective brothers the moment they discovered signs on that she was being courted by someone._

_“I did not even remember that I actually brought some of those letters and the portrait along here to Middle-earth…”_

_Seeing Maedhros start crying worried Elrond and Elros. Had they done something wrong in showing their foster-aunt the portrait? Yet despite the tears, she gave them a gentle smile._

_“Thank you, boys, this portrait just brought up old memories I had not been thinking about for a very long time. In fact, I think I might even tell you something that not even Maglor knows.”_

_“Really?”_

_Both of the twins became eager to know what it was that Maedhros had never told Maglor, begging and pleading her to tell the secret as she moved away the unfinished letter to Gil-galad so they could sit up on her desk._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, some of the former Lords of Gondolin had meet in a favourite pub for most of them. The owner being a Elf from Gondolin and had been having a pub back in the fallen city as well, making it a rather natural place for them to talk about things long gone in the First Age and what they missed from Gondolin.

“Ha, I won this time!” smiled Ecthelion as he made a winning cast in a simple dice game against Egalmoth and Penlod. Naturally, Egalmoth groaned loudly over his loss, trying to ignore the others' laughter in the background. Rog and Galdor was handing out drinks.

“Too bad that Idril and Tuor choose to stay on Tol Eressëa for another month, but perhaps we will see them later on the Spring festival…” said Duilin in a little sad voice.

“Well, lord Tuor might be immortal now but his body is not as strong as it once was back when he spent 14 years in Gondolin, let him take it easy and it will go well.”

It was Pengolodh who had spoken from a corner, and like always since he had chosen to become a Loremaster in one of the local libraries in Tol Eressëa at arriving to Aman, he was busy in writing down something on a parchment.

“All right, all right, Pengolodh, you wins…”

Suddenly the door to the pub was kicked open with a notable force. Everyone looked up at the sound.

“Ah…lady Maeglin? D…Did something happen?”

Clearly something must have happened, for Maeglin was dressed up in one of her finest dresses, looking like a princess rather than the common working clothes for a blacksmith that she normally wore, but her hair was in a mess after tearing out the hair accessories and she was crying furiously. Without first saying a sound, she marched up to the bar counter and threw a gold coin to the owner.

“Give me a huge glass of the strongest wine you have, or an ale if you have any, and put the bottle here.” grumbled Maeglin in a thick voice from all her crying. The very request of a strong drink worked as a warning signal for the others; back in Gondolin, Maeglin had never been drinking any alcohol unless she was so upset that she wanted to drown her sorrows. That she had been drinking a lot of strong alcohol between her return from Angband and the Fall of Gondolin had been a warning that they had failed to notice in time.

“Maeglin…? What happened to make you start drinking alcohol…Ah! Don’t drink the whole bottle at once, young lady!”

Rog hurried to take the bottle from Maeglin when she first emptied the huge glass in one gulp and then took a gulp directly from the bottle. Maeglin snarled like an angry cat when she tried to take the bottle back:

“Why I am drowning my feelings in alcohol, you wonder? Well, let me tell this thing straight, my fellow Lords! For whatever reason, my great-grandmother Indis seems pretty determined in the belief that I have been unwed for far too long after my Rebirth and has set up different matches for me with several sons of the nobility here in Gondolin! Do I also need to tell you, that all of them only pretend to like me around her and then always throw my reputation as the “Traitor of Gondolin” straight to my face before they toss me aside like a old ragdoll?!”

“They do what!?”

Ignoring the others' shocked faces, Maeglin took back the wine bottle from Rog and tried to empty it again in one gulp. When she choked because she drank too fast, Rog carefully smacked her in the back so she got air. 

“While it is true that you revealed Gondolin for Morgoth, you also tried to avoid it as long as you could. And you did not do it by your own free will, it was forced out from you by the use of torture…”

The mention of the living nightmare in Angband was the wrong thing to say. With a shriek that made their blood almost freeze to ice in their veins, Maeglin answered Ecthelion by throwing the half-empty wine bottle at him. When he ducked for the coming hit the bottle ended up breaking against the wall.

“Have you taken over Glorfindel’s first place in “saying things that you should _NOT_ say among certain persons”, Ecthelion? wondered Egalmoth from where he and Galdor had taken cover behind a couch. Stopping Maeglin from throwing something else on Ecthelion, Rog took hold of her hands in his own larger ones.  

“Okay…this is getting out of hand. You, my young lady, need to sleep off both your anger and the strong wine you just drank. Yes, you have every reason to be upset after what you went thought this evening, but please don’t take it out on others. This sort of anger is what you need your ever so beloved forge for.”

Tossing Maeglin over a shoulder, Rog paid five gold coins as payment for the wine bottle she had destroyed and then left the pub to carry her home in that manner. Once Maeglin’s angry protests could not be heard from the street outside anymore, the former Lords of Gondolin looked at each others.

“She might be a troublesome tomboy of a princess…”

“Always found working in the forge instead of using her position as a princess of the House of Fingolfin…”  

“Antisocial and rarely showing herself among others…”

“But _no one_ insults our Mole princess or calls her a traitor right to her face like that! If they think that they can get away with humiliate her like that, then I believe it is time for a little more… _physical reminder_ in the history about the First Age…”

Paying for their drinks, the former Lords of Gondolin left together while they discussed plans on how to give back to Maeglin’s humiliation by the young nobles. Their relationship with Maeglin was not what it once had been before her betrayal of Gondolin, but she was still one of them in her own way and only a fool would think that he would be able to get away with humiliate Maeglin as she had been this evening.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Time passed again outside the Halls of Mandos. Even of the spirits did not know exactly how much time that passed, one day Maedhros found a tapestry showing Elrond and the other Ring-bearers boarding the ship which would take them to Aman.

“So he is finally about to meet Celebrian and his parents again…and Maglor…”

Ever since her arrival into the Halls, Maedhros had felt a terrible guilt inside her over leaving Maglor as the only one left living of Fëanor’s children. She knew that he had been allowed to return to Aman after the War of Wrath, but to the horrible price of her own death and him becoming half insane in grief over losing his last sibling.

“ _Maedhros Fëanoriel, please come with me._ ”

She looked away from the tapestry at hearing Námo behind her. What did the Vala wish with her? It had been reasonable calm in the Halls since Sauron’s defeat, her brothers had not created any fight yet in a small while what she knew about, and Rûsa tended to find some very hard-to-find hiding spots behind the tapestries if there was any sign of something risking to reveal him as the Warg Rider.

“ _No, child, it is not something that has happened to someone of your family. Rather, the time for your Rebirth has come._ ”

Maedhros stopped walking in shock. She had not been thinking of her own Rebirth for a long time. She had always been more focused, and worrying, about Rûsa’s Rebirth. At least in Aman Maedhros knew that it would be people who remembered her before she had become a Kinslayer. But Rûsa? He had lived his whole life in Angband, knew no other way of living…

It was not just about Rûsa being a baseborn child, for many surviving Noldor warriors the Warg Rider was a feared monster in Morgoth’s service, the one who they had come to fear the most with how fast he could harm or kill a opponent in battle.

“…I…I…don’t know if I can leave the Halls, my Lord…I…my son…no, I am so sorry…I can’t explain it…”

Maedhros could not stop her worrying about Rûsa or stopping her tears slipping from her weeping eyes. She was afraid, too afraid of what might await her feral son in Aman if it ever came out who he had been in Middle-earth.

“I am so afraid for what might happen to Rûsa when he is Reborn…I fear for how people will react at learning that he is a baseborn child…and that he was born in Angband during my time there…I can deal with being an outcast for my past deeds, to never become that beloved princess I once was in my youth, but…I do not want my son to suffer for my sins!”

Maedhros was crying very hard now, hiding her tear-strained face in her left hand. Bending down so he was to her level, Námo put a hand on her shoulder.  

“ _It is all right for you to cry, Maedhros. This is a hard moment for you, and you are afraid of leaving your child behind again as you once was forced to do without knowing about it the first time it happened. But I promise you, that_ _Rûsa will not notice your_ _absence. I have already put him into a deep healing sleep, from which he will not awake from until that he is Reborn. And your nephew Celebrimbor has offered to postpone his own Rebirth so he can stay here and keep watch over Rûsa until they both are Reborn. Besides, you will have enough problems with trying to be used to living again, and caring for your son at the same time would only add more stress to you. No, it is better if he is Reborn a few years after yourself, so you can offer him a steady home._ ”

As Maedhros raised her gaze to look at the Vala, she could see Celebrimbor standing a bit away. Holding his finger to his lips so she would be quiet, he gently held a sleeping Rûsa in his child-form against his chest with his other arm. Seeing that her son would be safe with his own cousin as guard during the healing sleep before his Rebirth lessened the worry inside Maedhros. Walking over to her nephew, she bent down and gave Rûsa a faint kiss on his forehead in farewell.

 “I promise to not let someone know about him yet, aunt. It would only be awkward if people ask about him,” promised Celebrimbor as he adjusted his hold on his sleeping cousin. Maedhros stroked one of Rûsa’s cheeks with her hand.   

“I shall pray to the Allfather that it won’t be too many years before I get to see you again, my sweet boy….”  

Having said her goodbyes, Maedhros allowed Námo to lift her up in his hands and take her away to the gate leading to the Gardens of Lorien where her new body was awaiting on her soul to enter it.


	16. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros is not the only one to be reborn in her family, and poor Finrod finds out that some things tends to come true shortly after saying it...

Year 5 of the Fourth Age. One of the first things that Maedhros became aware of, apart from the light pain when air entered her new lungs which was unused to working alongside her new beating heart, was the strong scent of flowers. Mainly the calming scent of lavender and chamomile.  

“W…where…am I…?”

She had not been in the Gardens of Lorien many times before the Darkening of Valinor, but she was pretty sure that this place was not the Gardens. She must be somewhere else in Aman, but where?

“I just hope that it is not the royal palace in Tirion, I do not feel ready for meeting everyone in the family yet…it is too soon…”

Maedhros tried to move, but felt that her limbs were like heavy lead. Slowly opening her eyes, Maedhros saw that she was laying in a warm and comfortable bed with lots of pillows and blankets, just like she had wanted it back in the First Age. The room had lots of space, the large windows did let in sunlight and if she was not seeing wrong, it was a small balcony as well. 

“Do you think that she will remember me? After all, it has been so long…”

“Beloved, if your foster-father was able to see who you were at first sight, then I believe that she will know who you are as well. And it is not like our two boys is here at the moment and can confuse our guest.”

“My dear silver-lady, my brother and I were not so alike as our sons…”

The voices sounded like a married couple, from the way they spoke to each other. The female voice was one she never had heard before, but the male one was. It sounder older, wiser than what she remembered. He had been so young, only 56 years old when Maedhros last had seen him, hardly more than a young boy in her eyes when his human blood had made him grow up faster than a normal Elfling.  

“…E…Elrond? Is that you?”

Her own little healer as they had joked, the ever so watchful boy who had always worried so much about her different phantom pains the moment she showed any possible sign of being in pain. Light footsteps, a little more heavier than a normal Elf’s quiet footsteps.

“Aunt Maedhros.”

Indeed it was him, who had came over to the bed. Elrond showed some sighs of looking a little older than a ageless Elf, likely caused by his human blood and the stress of having to be on guard for Sauron all the time.  

“I have missed you, my little bookworm.” whispered Maedhros with a faint smile as she raised her left arm to try and hug him. Elrond returned the smile, before he hugged her back carefully. The smiling, silver-haired Elf lady who remained in the door could only be Celebrian, his lady wife.

 

When he did let go of her again, Maedhros took a more closer look on him.

“Look at you. Handsome fellow you turned out to be with age. Goodness, it feels so strange to see you as a real adult when you still were a youngling at my death.”

Elrond laughed a dry, heart-felt laughter.

“Then you might be able to guess how strange it feels for me, to see you without any of the scars and everything else when I remembered you very differently.” informed Elrond before placing his fingers on her right shoulder, now even with her left shoulder.

“Old habits die slowly. Tell me if you are hurting somewhere.”

A gentle warmth spread in her right shoulder and arm as Elrond checked on Maedhros for any possible phantom pain she might have from her old body. It was a minor shock when she realized that her new body had a right hand as well, and then remembered all the training she had to do in order to become used to use her left hand instead of the right hand.

“Do not tell me that I have to go through all that training with my hand _again,_ this time with my right hand?” Maedhros said aloud irritably when she recalled how clumsy she had been, knocking over things and such nearly all the time before she had gotten used to her left hand being the dominant hand instead of the right one.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, Finrod and his wife Amarië were enjoying breakfast on the balcony. They had a good view over the landscape outside Tirion, which was why they had requested those chambers at their wedding many years back.

“It is a very fine morning today.”

Finrod smiled at her as she poured up tea for him in a cup.

“A good morning indeed. Lately it has been no reports about disagreements for the nomadic Avari clans and other Elves here in Aman. It is seven years since Sauron finally was defeated. Haru Finwë has taken back the crown and is ruling as High King of the Noldor once again. Things are surprisingly well in the family if you count out that Aredhel and Maeglin are on a journey together to visit Eöl. Now all we need is a letter about cousin Maglor’s siblings and uncle Fëanor being Reborn and it will be the end of the calm before the storm that is the Fëanorian branch of the family…oh?”

Noticing one of Námo’s Maiar hurrying past them, Finrod hoped that he would not have to regret his last words. While he had moved past the trauma of his death, he still had not forgiven Celegorm and Curufin for their actions. After all, he had offered them sanctuary in Nargothrond when their own realms had fallen in the war against Morgoth and how had they repaid his kindness? By indirectly causing his death.

“I really wish that I could have seen Maedhros' reaction at hearing what her brothers had done to princess Luthien. Knowing how changed she was after the years in Angband, her fury in that moment must have reminded them a lot about both uncle Fëanor and aunt Nerdanel mixed together in their worst anger.”

Even if Nerdanel was more calm in her temper than Fëanor, Finrod could still remember a couple of times when Nerdanel had been more furious than her hot-blooded husband over something.

“Findarato, everyone in your family has changed as a result of the events in Middle-earth. No one is the person they once were before the Darkening. And yet…the thought of lady Maitimo, who always seemed to shine with joy when she was with Elflings…no, I still can’t imagine how she could kill someone in cold blood.”

“Maedhros was never Maitimo again after being saved by Fingon. And when she gave up the crown to uncle Fingolfin…she stopped being her father's heir, it was like seeing her bury her other identity as Nelyafinwë when she bent down her head and let uncle take away the symbolic crown, made exclusively for that ceremony, from her head to set it on his own…”

The memory of seeing Maedhros lifting up her head again and seeing just how dead her eyes seemed to be in that moment, had haunted Finrod’s memory for a long time after that Fingolfin became king.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the throne room, Finwë had just dismissed some of his courtiers so he and Indis could meet the Maia from the Halls of Mandos in peace.

“ _Hail, High King Finwë of the Noldor. I bring a message from my master Námo, directly from his Halls of the Dead._ ”

Personally, Finwë deeply hoped that it was not a message about that Fëanor and his six dead children would never be allowed to leave the Halls before the Final Battle. While he had confessed to his family members to that he had not been an ideal father to all of his children by having Fëanor as his favourite, it still pained him to know that his oldest son might not be Reborn.

“Please tell us what your master sends for word.”

The Maia nodded. With Finwë’s love for Fëanor, this would be good news for the High King and likely would make the rest of his day.

“ _Your oldest son Fëanáro, his daughter_ _Nelyafinwë and his sons Turcafinwë,_ _Morifinwë,_ _Curufinwë, Pityafinwë and_ _Telufinwë have been allowed to be Reborn. They were sent to different places where their new bodies had been prepared and should have awoken at this time._ ”

You could have been able to hear a needle fall to the floor, so great was the shocking silence. Finwë said nothing, but was clinging to Indis' hand to not break down over the news that his oldest son and six of his seven children had came back to life. Instead, it was the closed doors to the throne room that ended up breaking the silence thanks to that most of Finwë’s present grandchildren had been trying to overhear the message by the doors, leading to that they fell on top of each others in a pile. And what was more, Fingolfin and Finarfin was standing at the doors as well both looking worried in their own ways.

“If older brother Fëanor is back, then I better go and find that iron choker lord Mahtan made for me, just in case I will find a new sword pointed at my throat.” was all Fingolfin commented in a frosty voice before turning around and leaving. Finarfin did not say anything, but his grey eyes told everything what he felt about his older half-brother’s return; Fear for that it would become fights over the position as heir to Finwë once again.

“I believe that your oldest brother and your law-sister wanted to speak with us all about something, boys. Nephews, can you check where your father went?” said Eärwen in a quick attempt to break the ice, pushing her husband ahead while she also tried to gather her sons to follow their father. Fingon, Turgon and Argon hurried after Fingolfin.

“So much for the hope of a good morning…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Hearing the faint groan from Caranthir, Mahtan drew together the curtains so that it became dark in the guestroom.

“Good morning and welcome back to the living world, Moryo. You sound like you did not have a pleasant time waking up.”

“Grandfather Mahtan…? Ooooooow, I feel like I used to do from having a hangover from drinking that strong ale which the Dwarves love so much, or as if Atar, Curvo and his son is hamming on something inside my head…such a painful headache along with still feeling that wound over my chest that ended my life…” grumbled Caranthir weakly from the bed, slowly dragging the quilt over his head so his whole body was covered. Mahtan poured up some cold water in a goblet for his grandson and put the goblet on the small table beside the bed.

“If you wonder where the others are, have no worry. Tyelko and the twins is currently with Lord Oromë, given how much they loved to hunt it seemed the best. And Curvo is in the Halls of Lord Aulë while your sister are in the house of Káno’s Half-elven foster-son Elrond. Your father is with your mother in one of your family’s old hunting cabins, according to the letter as your grandmother found in your hand when we carried you inside.”

Caranthir shuddered under the quilt at hearing where his father is.

“Then I only hope that Amil won’t send Atar back to the Halls of Mandos in whatever fury I am sure that she still holds from when we left her…knowing my own surprise at finding myself here, I hope that it won’t be a screaming match between them again…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In fact, that had almost been Fëanor’s exact reaction at waking up and seeing Nerdanel’s sleeping face so close to his own, because she was laying beside him in the bed they once had shared before his exile to Formenos. He would have screamed in surprise, but managed to keep quiet and remain stiff as a board in the fear that the slightest movement would wake her. Although his heart was beating pretty fast in his chest, both from the surprise of seeing Nerdanel and a couple of other things.  

“Just my luck, huh? Waking up beside my wife like this, when our last meeting face-to-face ended with a fight about whatever the twins and Nelyo would stay with her…”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Nerdanel was now crying in both fury and sadness over what he just had said. Her grey eyes, which once had been filled with such endless love at their wedding so long ago, were now cold as ice._

_“…Fine. But you and the boys better keep an extra watchful eye on Umbarto and Maitimo then, for I fear that the two of them will be the first family victims of this folly from the very moment you set foot in Middle-earth!”_

_And with that, she had turned around and ran away from him, crying bitterly in anger._

_“Now I really know that the Fëanáro I once fell in love with is no more…where he once stood is now only a spirit of fire living on hate and madness!”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By pure luck, he had requested his followers to ensure that no one was still on the swan ships before they had been burned. Amrod had been found in the last minute, or he would have been burnt to death before they had known where he was. But thanks to his own death, Maedhros had been tricked into a trap by Morgoth and taken as captive to Angband. 

“I am never going to live that one down, I am sure on it. And if Nerdanel requests our marriage union to be annulled because of the past…”

Fëanor was not sure how he would take it if such a event really happened. Back during his exile in Formenos, a small part of him had believed that their marriage had started to lose its fire because of how things had changed between them with 7 children and perhaps the 12 Years of the Trees spent separated might be needed as a break in their marriage, to let Nerdanel regain some spiritual strength after carrying Amrod and Amras.

“…mm…”

Suddenly Nerdanel moved in her sleep, a sign on that she soon would be awake. Fearing her possible reaction when she saw that he had awoken, Fëanor shut his eyes and waited on her tantrum to happen. But it never came. Instead, a hand gently stroke his cheek. Daring to open his eyes again a little, Fëanor saw that Nerdanel had not moved from where she was laying beside him. Nerdanel’s eyes were tear-filled as she touched him again.

“I thought that I would not be allowed to see you and our other children again until the Final Battle…and when our oldest son was brought home as a nearly empty shell of himself after Maitimo’s death…I realized just what I had lost…not just the children I had birthed and loved so much…but also my one and only _Prince of Fire_ …”

The nickname she had once given him as a proof of love. She had stopped calling him that after the creation of the Silmarils, along with the event where he had threatened Fingolfin in public with the sword. Fëanor opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced when Nerdanel put a finger over his lips.

“Don’t say anything yet, please. “

Hugging her husband carefully in case he would have any phantom pains like Reborn Elves often turned out to have under the first days in the new body, Nerdanel placed a kiss on his forehead.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In an unknown spot on the great steppes of Aman, a message falcon spotted the Elf it had been sent after. Or rather one of them, seeing that said Elf was sitting at a small lake with a She-elf, taking a break in the journey they currently was doing to let their horses rest for a bit.

“Huh? What is one of my grandfather’s falcons doing here?”

Maglor raised to his feet and held out a arm so the falcon could land. Taking the message, he saw his name on it. His Noldorian wife Rainiel, a singer like her husband, hoped that it would not be anything serious. It had taken a very long time for her husband to heal from the exile in Middle-earth and the loss of virtually his entire family. She greatly feared a possible relapse as Maglor still was very frail in his mind at times even after all these years recovering in Aman. So now she silently prayed to the Valar and the Allfather that it would be good news the letters brought. Suddenly, Maglor started to cry. But it was tears of pure and simple, almost childish joy when he looked at his wife.

“They are Reborn…my Atar and my siblings are Reborn! Scattered across Aman, but they are all here in living bodies again! I can’t wait to see all of them again! Lets start with Elrond’s house as it is the closest to where we are right now, Nelyo is in his care!”

Maglor was so overjoyed by the happy family news that he lifted up Rainiel in his arms and danced around with her. For the first time since the news of Celebrimbor’s death back in the Second Age, the first-born son of Fëanor was actually singing again. Maglor’s commanding singing voice was taken up by the wind and spread out in the air around the wedded couple.


	17. Reunion between siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Maglor finally meets again since her death

For most of the first days in her new body, Maedhros simply rested in her guestroom. It took time for her to take full control over her body, trying to walk without requested help or support so she did not fall to the floor. Not to mention that she ended up knocking over a lot of things when she reached out for something with her left hand and her right hand followed.

“At least my younger brothers are not here to tease me about all of this mess.” commented Maedhros the third day after her Rebirth when she knocked over a cup of tea at breakfast. Celebrian smiled in agreement as she dried up the tea from the table with a rag, Elrond being busy in pouring up tea in a new cup for his former foster-aunt.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

But Maedhros got the biggest surprise yet about a fortnight after her Rebirth, namely a sign of womanhood that she had not been having at all under the whole First Age after giving birth to Rûsa.

“…mm…wait…something is strange this morning…”

Turning around, she lowered her left hand to feel on the bed sheet. At seeing her hand covered in blood when she drew it back, Maedhros nearly freaked out for a couple of moments because of the memories it brought up. Then she remembered the number of days since her Rebirth and realized what it must be.

“Ah….Celebrian? _CELEBRIAN!!_ Get over here quickly, I need some help from you!”

As Maedhros' guestroom was not too far away from the master room, Celebrian was quick to arrive.

“What is wrong, lady Maedhros…oh. Right, lord Maglor mentioned something about that the “tender care” under Sauron’s hands in Angband along with your son’s birth…totally ruined your monthly cycle for the rest of the First Age…” said Celebrian when she came into the guestroom and saw the blood on Maedhros' hand. Maedhros herself was blushing very deeply as she answered:

“What you just said, is indeed true. I have totally forgotten how it even feels to have a monthly cycle…the time in Angband, Rûsa’s birth and then becoming more dead than alive while hanging from my right wrist for so long before Fingon saved me…it made me _barren_ back in the First Age. Even if I had married someone as part of a alliance against Morgoth, I would have been a infertile wife, unable to bear any possible heirs…”  

A uneasy silence fell in the guestroom, before Celebrian hurried to get the necessary items for Maedhros. As some of the house maids had awoken by Maedhros' calling as well, Celebrian requested them to bring some new sheets to the guestroom when they would clean it after breakfast. When Celebrian had left, Maedhros carefully went to the bathroom to clean the blood off of her. It was not much, but it did bring up old memories that she rather wished to be buried forever. Words that she rather would not remember ever again, something that had felt even more like a Doom from the Valar than what the exile from Aman had been. No…it had been more than just that, it had been the gravest humiliation and shame for her very person, against everything that she once had been before her captivity.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“What?”_

_Maedhros' shocked whisper was the only spoken word heard in the silence inside the healing tent where she had been living in for a almost full year. Hearing that she actually was awake and possibly had overheard the conversation, had made the healer go quiet in realization how she would react. Maglor, who had been talking with the healer, had gone pale in shock and horror at what he just had learned. He brought his shaking hand to his mouth, unable to say anything as the healer hurried out from the tent in fear for Maedhros' reaction. She had grown unpredictable in her mood ever since Fingon had brought her back, yet now her eyes was filled with disbelief and a quiet pleading that it would not be true._

_“…is it true…Káno? That I am…that I am…”_

_Her whole body began to shake, as she fought against her instincts to cry. Taking a deep breath and carefully hugging his sister as comfort for the coming words, as if he wanted to weaken the pain it would cause, Maglor whispered:_

_“The female healers who are the very best in female healing have all come to the same conclusion, sister: your time in enemy captivity has made you unable to get pregnant. You have not shown any sign at all of having your monthly cycle since you started to regain a good body weight, and…they says…that your womb is ruined…that any attempt to get pregnant would only result in miscarriage…”_

_The memories of Sauron taking her newborn son from her came back to the surface of her mind. Was he the only child she ever would be able to have? Her own firstborn offspring, born in a living hell?_

_“…no…please no…it can’t be true…”_

_Maedhros curled up into a ball and cried bitterly as Maglor spoke. She did not even make a attempt to hide her distress,_ _so upset she was. Low wails left Maedhros, mixing with her cursing Morgoth and Sauron for destroying her dreams of ever become a mother, mourning the possible children she never would be able of having now._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In another part of Aman, something very different was happening. Maeglin was busy in creating a fire so she could cook breakfast while her parents were getting water from the river where they had made up camp the evening before.

“Watch out, Eöl!”

“Hm? OI!!”

Eöl barely jumped aside in time to avoid getting pushed out in the water when Aredhel used a long branch to swing herself over the river. She landed in the water with a laugh. When she did not show up at the surface right away, Eöl knelt down at the river bank to try and catch a look of herself or her white dress. In the next moment however, Aredhel suddenly appeared up at the river bank and pulled him along back into the water.

“Ah!”

Eöl was quick to drag himself back on dry land, trying to catch his breath since he had been caught by surprise by his wife.

“Last time I checked, people normally do not bathe with their clothes on.”

“Oh, stop being such a joy killer, Eöl. Try have some fun, or some of the Noldor nobles might complain about our marriage again.” answered Aredhel with an untroubled laught as she climbed up beside him.   

“Whatever, I don’t care.”  

Maeglin shook on her head at seeing what her parents were doing. Their relationship had indeed changed a lot from how she remembered from her last years in Nan Elmoth. It was as if something had melted the ice between her parents, and now she saw more often how they must have been in their early relationship. While there still was something of Eöl’s need to keep control over his wife, it was nothing like during her youth before their death.

“Aredhel.”

“Hm?”

Suddenly Eöl showed one of his very rare smiles, before he shoved Aredhel back into the river. Aredhel was quick to repay that by dragging him down in the water again, resulting in a lesser wrestling match between them.

“And people says that my Ada has no sense of humour?” wondered Maeglin to herself as she now had gotten life in the new fire. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that perhaps it was best if she went a bit away and searched for that rabbit they had made up a trap for yesterday evening, which they hoped would be today’s breakfast. Just because she was not so innocent anymore when it came to what happened between a male and female in a marriage bed thanks to Rûsa, it did not mean that she wanted to be around her parents in one of _those_ moments. And hopefully they would keep their promise to not give her any possible younger siblings, Maeglin already had enough trouble in her life with being their only child.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Elrond and Elros peeked inside the room belonging to Maedhros. They had not seen her at breakfast earlier, which was very unusual. At asking Maglor where she was, he had answered that his sister were not feeling well. Learning that, they had quickly brought along a large mug of tea and a plate of cardamom cakes that they knew Maedhros loved._

_“Is she asleep?”_

_“No, I am sure that aunt Maedhros just muttered something.”_

_As proof, Maedhros just turned around in bed so she looked towards the door._

_“Are you two going to stand there all day or not?” she wondered weakly, her damaged vocal cords not allowing her voice to be raised higher or she would lose her voice temporarily. Only the top of her head and face was visible around all the blankets and pillows she had made like a large nest around her body in the bed._

_“Sorry, aunt Maedhros. We were just not sure if you were asleep or not. Why are you in bed, anyway?”_

_“A bad day, in a way that I have not had in a few years. My back and right shoulder hurts and are stiff like hell, must be a storm arriving later. Do not expect to see me out of my bed today.”_

_Slowly sitting up so she could drink some of the tea, Maedhros groaned as her joints creaked loudly. Elros was kind enough to put a pillow behind her back so she could lean back a bit._

_“Even if I will be absent from the history lesson today, I still want you two to read up chapter 35, or “Why you should NOT request a possible son-in-law to kill himself just because you do not like him” along with chapter 36, “Do NOT mess up with people who are in love”. Named like that after learning exactly what your ancestor Thingol requested of Beren as bride price for Luthien and how my two brothers caused a lot of trouble along the way the two lovebirds and my poor cousin Finrod.”_

_The Half-elven twins giggled at hearing what the chapter title was. They knew a little about Luthien and Beren, Maedhros had mentioned earlier that Celegorm and Curufin deserved that humiliation for messing with the Quest._    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Maedhros had dressed, she went downstairs to have breakfast with Elrond and Celebrian. Thanks to having dressed in male clothing ever since she was saved by Fingon back in the beginning of the First Age, it felt very strange indeed for her to wear a dress again. Elrond was not so strict in dress-code as the royal court in Tirion had been, but Maedhros wanted to try and get used to dresses again in case she ever were to appear at the royal court again. It was one thing to dress as a male because of a very deep trauma, but a whole different matter to trying being a royal princess again.

“My, look at this. Now I see why you are one of the most desired ladies in the Noldor court.” said Elrond as a friendly greeting at seeing her. Maedhros, who was dressed in a dark green dress to highlight her red hair and pale skin colour, smiled embarrassedly while she tried to avoid tripping on the dress hem.

“I _was_ that once in my youth and early adulthood, Elrond, before everything with the Silmarils happened. Now I seriously doubt that anyone would want to marry me after everything that happened in the First Age. Not to mention that far too well known…problem with my grandfather’s remarriage would discourage anyone when it gets known that I am an unwed mother to a baseborn son as well.”

Sensing that Maedhros was very worried when it came to Rûsa, Celebrian changed the subject to some of the adventures Elladan and Elrohir had found themselves into when they were small Elflings. Hearing about how the boys had ended up pranking their poor grandfather Celeborn instead of Glorfindel when they had tried to catch the famed Balrog slayer, seemed to cheer up Maedhros.

“Really makes me regret that Maglor and myself never got a chance to live in exile there in Imladris, I am sure that he would have loved to take on the role as an honorary grandfather to the kids. And they would likely try and catch me in their pranks as well, only that I have grown up with six younger brothers and often had to avoid any possible prank from them daily.”

Just as they had finished breakfast and simply enjoying the last cup of tea, did the household servant Lindir show up.

“My lord Elrond, lady Celebrian. There are guests at the gate. And I believe that lady Maedhros should come as well.”  

“This early in the morning? I just hope that it is not something serious. If people do not like the fact that I am giving sanctuary to my former foster-aunt, tell the guards to chase them away from this place. Kinslayer or not, aunt Maedhros was one of the two siblings to raise me in my real parents' place and I am not going to let people causing trouble for her past back in the First Age.”

Maedhros blushed at hearing Elrond still calling her “aunt” in front of other people, but felt that he had a kind of right to do so after being raised by Maglor.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Lucky, it was a good surprise which awaited them at the gate to Elrond’s and Celebrian’s home. While it was not someone they might had expect to meet yet, it was one of the best guesses they could have.

“Káno, Rainiel!”

Seeing her oldest little brother and law-sister, brought a smile to Maedhros. In fact, that joyful smile was so different from the sad smiles she did have back in the First Age that Elrond for a moment could not believe that it actually was the same person.  

“Well, grandfather Finarfin _did_ say something about that lady Maedhros in her youth seemed to be able to knock males off their feet the moment she smiled, just like her Atar Fëanor did with the ladies before his marriage to lady Nerdanel. Looks like he did not exaggerate in that case, not after seeing how she smiles right now. Look at her,” whispered Celebrian to her husband at seeing his minor shock. Trying to reclaim himself, Elrond could only agree with his lady wife. Seeing Maedhros' happiness in this moment as she hugged Maglor and her law-sister made him realize how painful it must have been for Finarfin at seeing Maedhros at the beginning of the War of Wrath. To see her like that, and remembering how she must have been in the Time of the Two Trees…

“…and yes, I did scold Rûsa in the Halls for kidnapping me once I felt that it was the right time to do so. I guess that few things are as scary as a mother’s wrath.”

“Well, you did have free training on our brothers and cousins back when we grew up.” did Maglor agree to his sister’s words. Out of pure curiosity, did Maedhros carefully glare down on Rainiel’s abdomen. Catching on what it was that she might be looking for, Maglor laughed nervously.

“We felt that it would not be same as with Káno’s siblings around, so we have been waiting for the news of your Rebirth to try for children so they could have their paternal uncles and aunt around as they grow up. Of course, there have been people who have expressed a desire that the House of Fëanor will have no more generations, or that poor Telpërinquar will remain the only one of the third generation…”

Rainiel showed no surprise when Maglor and Maedhros shared a knowing glance between them. Clearly Maglor must have felt that his wife was entitled the right of knowing about Rûsa, as he was Maedhros' son.

“ _Does_ _ammë know about Rûsa?_ ” asked Maedhros mentally to Maglor by using Ósanwë. A faint nod was all she got as answer, but it was enough for her.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In another part of Aman:

“So neither one of our two law-daughters found themselves with child after the First Kinslaying?”

Nerdanel was currently busy in massaging Fëanor’s shoulders, as he had been trying to do some forge work over the past days and found out the hard way that his new body was not yet used to hard work.  To pass some time, Nerdanel told Feanor what their law-daughters, Maglor’s wife Rainiel and Curufin’s wife Astarë alongside herself had been forced to endure in the past.

“No. And to be honest, I dare to say that it actually was a minor blessing in everything that we had to endure under the First Age. If the girls had given birth…no, the children would have been forced to face the shame of their fathers actions and been outcasts among their own people. And Makalaurë have not felt ready for children of his own since he was brought home to Aman, he has needed a lot of time to heal even with the help from his family. Now, with the rest of our children returned, I think there might be a growing change of more grandchildren.”  

Nerdanel bent down to move away some stray hairs that had gotten loose from his braid. Then, she carefully whispered in Fëanor’s ear:

“ _We need to fix a cover story for our youngest grandson Rûsa to have ready at his Rebirth._ ”

Fëanor froze at her words, realizing that Maglor must have told Nerdanel of what had happened to Maedhros in Angband. Then again, as the matriarch of the House of Feanor, Nerdanel had the right to know the truth of what had happened in Middle-earth to her children after Fëanor’s death.

“It feels like my death was the start of what led to Nelyo giving birth to Rûsa…if only I had not chased after the Balrogs and been injured to death by my own folly…”

Fëanor’s clenched fists were shaking in his lap. Feeling Nerdanel’s hand on his shoulder, he looked up at her.

“We can’t change the past, husband…but we can try to make the future better for our ill-begotten grandson at least. His first life will, without any doubt, haunt him in ways that not even Nelyo might be able to understand despite having been a captive in Angband herself.”    

Fëanor laid a hand over Nerdanel’s hand on his shoulder, silently agreeing with her. No one, apart from the Valar and the Allfather himself, know how the future would be. But one thing was for sure:

Once Rusa was Reborn as well alongside Celebrimbor and the whole House of Fëanor were gathered together again for the first time since Feanor’s death in Years of the Trees 1497, they would need each others for support and safely. Their past sins were not so easily forgotten, and there were people who likely never ever would forgive the House of Feanor for their deeds back in the First Age. Celebrimbor, who had lived in Middle-earth, had felt some of the old distrust thanks to being a grandson to Fëanor despite that he had disowned Curufin after the news of Finrod’s death and had done all he could do to heal some of the damage the Second and Third Kinslaying had caused. How would Rûsa, who had never known any other life other than that of a slave in Angband, be able to fit in here among the Noldor in Aman?

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the Halls of Mandos, things had become almost strangely quiet when Fëanor and his family no longer were there. Yet it was also a very pleasant silence, actually.

“What are you doing, great-grandmother Miriel?” asked Celebrimbor when Miriel started to spin a strange, multi-coloured thread around Rûsa' small spiritual body where he was sleeping in Celebrimbor’s lap.

“ _I am simply trying to mentally prepare him a little for all the sights he will see in Aman. With him being used to the barren lands and cold darkness of Angband, poor Rûsa risks getting overwhelmed by shock when he sees all the colours, hear all the sounds and feel all the fragrances otherwise._ ”

Celebrimbor nodded in agreement, getting the logic in what his great-grandmother was trying to do. Rûsa frowned slightly in sleep when his mind slowly became filled with how Aman looked in his dreams, yet he calmed down almost right away at seeing Maedhros in a part of the dream. Moving over to his other side so he now had his face against Celebrimbor, Rûsa slept on in the deep healing sleep.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Almost like a silent agreement without even meeting each others at their Rebirths, the Fëanorians tried to avoid other people and quickly took themselves to Formenos as their House’s place of living. There people were still loyal to the House of Fëanor, welcoming them back to life as their masters of the northern stronghold. Naturally, Finwë sent a lot of letters to his first-born son, pleading with him and his Fëanorian grandchildren to come to Tirion so they could be welcomed back into the Royal family again. But, as Feanor wrote in answer over and over again, to his father:

_The puzzle that is my House, is yet to become complete. We won’t leave Formenos until that all of us are together once more. No one will be left behind this time._

Only a fool would fail to realize that it was Celebrimbor, his own grandson, that Fëanor was hinting to. He wanted his whole family back alive before they showed up at the royal court in Tirion again. Yet, for Maedhros' sake, he never mentioned a single word about Rûsa in his letters. Time was not ready yet to reveal the unknown grandson born from the only Fëanorian princess. And so, seven more years passed in Aman…              

 

To be continued…        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last chapter in Painful Meetings. The sequel, Sins of the Past, will soon be updated


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